


Seven Days a Week

by lalunaunita



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrien Agreste/Marinette Dupain-Cheng-centric, F/M, Friendship/Love, Gen, akuma fights, school pressure, superhero pressure
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-06
Updated: 2018-01-19
Packaged: 2018-12-24 17:10:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 39,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12017304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lalunaunita/pseuds/lalunaunita
Summary: Marinette and Adrien have a report to do together, but life, romance, and crime-fighting keep getting in the way! When it comes down to the wire, will Ladybug and Chat Noir have to choose between saving Paris, or saving their grades?





	1. Monday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette and Adrien are assigned as partners for a report on French poetry! Alya gets stuck with Chloe.

"All right, class, time to focus!" Miss Bustier called out and clapped her hands. Marinette's blue bell eyes snapped back from the rain drops gliding down the window panes as she gave her favorite teacher her full attention. "We'll be finishing up our section on French poetry this week, with a presentation due next Monday. You'll each be assigned a partner and a poem."

Several hands shot up and a clamor started among the students, "I want Juleka!" "Put me with Kim!" "Can I partner with Max?"

Miss Bustier raised her hands for silence. "I already drew random partners."

A disappointed, "Awww…" was heard from several voices.

"I want you to prepare two interpretations of your assigned poem, and then present them in a debate style together. These handouts will give you further instructions. All right, first pair: Mylene and Nino." Mylene smiled as Nino turned and gave her a thumbs-up. "Second pair: Alya and Chloe."

"WHAT?" Alya screeched, but Marinette grabbed her best friend's arm before she could jump out of her seat.

"Alya!" she whispered, pulling the reluctant girl back down to the bench. "It's not worth getting in trouble over. You know Sabrina's going to do her work anyway." The auburn-haired aspiring journalist acknowledged that fact with a nod, but her brow remained creased with a frown. Chloe looked daggers at the pair over her shoulder.

"I cannot believe this is happening to me," Alya whispered through gritted teeth. She muttered to herself, folding her arms over her chest and slouching down petulantly in her seat as Miss Bustier continued.

"Third pair: Alix and Sabrina." Alix shrugged when Sabrina looked nervously in her direction. "Fourth pair: Ivan and Nathaniel."

"Dude, sounds good," Ivan confirmed.

"You're already a poet - or at least a lyricist," Nathaniel agreed.

"Fifth pair: Juleka and Max."

"Juleka, give me your schedule for the week after class, and we'll plan it out," Max whispered to the violet-haired girl, who nodded agreement.

"Sixth pair: Marinette and Adrien."

Marinette's ears turned red the moment Ms. Bustier's words hit them. Adrien turned and smiled up at her. She felt her goofiest grin pasted uncontrollably across her face.

Chloe's tight frown seemed to make her mouth disappear, and she sat hunched with her arms crossed. "Hmph!" was all she managed in front of Miss Bustier. Alya punched Marinette in the arm and Marinette schooled her features back to neutral as their teacher continued.

"And last but not least: Rose and Kim." Kim reached out to fist bump little Rose, who lifted her tiny fist with a giggle and bumped back.

"Here are your handouts. Use the techniques we've been learning for poetry appreciation and analysis. I don't have to remind you: read your poems more than once, over a few days - you have a whole week, after all. Let the beauty of your poem sink in and really try to put yourself in the poet's place."

Chloe raised her hand as the bell rang and the other students gathered their bags to leave, "Miss Bustier, I don't think I should be forced to work with someone who is openly hostile and antagonistic toward me."

"Me… hostile toward _you_?!" Alya spluttered, coming forward from her seat with Marinette at her side. The two enemies stood in front of the red-haired teacher's desk, glaring at each other. "May I remind you of the time you got me suspended-"

"Ladies," Miss Bustier interjected, "my decision is final. This report is to be presented as a debate, after all. It's fine if it's a little spirited. Alya, I know you can do this." Alya met her teacher's kind gaze, then nodded, her defiance melting away. "Chloe, you aren't always going to work with people you like. It's a fact of life. Use this opportunity to practice… diplomacy and grace under pressure. As the mayor's daughter, I'm sure you have plenty of experience with that." Chloe preened under Miss Bustier's praise. Marinette was astonished at her clever teacher's own diplomatic ability. She suppressed a smile as they let Chloe saunter out ahead of them, Sabrina trailing along after her.

"Ugh," Alya groaned, sliding onto a bench outside the classroom. "Best of all worlds would be if Chloe doesn't even show up to work with me and Sabrina."

"Seems fairly likely, in my experience," Marinette agreed. She sighed. "What am I going to do, Alya?! I can't believe I'm paired with Adrien of all people!"

"Uh-uh, girl, for once I can't spare you any sympathy. Major pity party right here. Besides, remember how well you two got along when your uncle was in town? You can at least talk to him now, right? And this project is clearly going to take all of us some extra time out of class. Are you telling me you're not excited about a few study dates with Mr. Hottie?" Alya threw a conspiratorial arm around her best friend and gave her a hug.

"No, you're right. I am excited! French poetry isn't my best subject, though."

"The poems are short. This project shouldn't be too hard. Just pace yourself, like Miss Bustier said." Alya gave her arm an affectionate shake. Marinette nodded.

"Hey, Marinette, do you have a minute?" Marinette whipped her head up suddenly at Adrien's familiar voice.

"Me? Yeah, sure! What's up?"

"I have to talk to you about this project," Adrien sighed and the girls scooted down to give him room on the bench. He joined them and set his satchel to one side. "I'm really busy this week. My dad has a bunch of stuff going on with some photo shoots, plus fencing and my other lessons… I don't know when I can meet up with you." He ran his hand through his hair and let it drop to one leg in frustration.

"Oh. I understand. I guess I can work on both sides by myself-"

"No, no, no, that's not what I mean. I wouldn't let you do the report by yourself. I just can't meet until Saturday morning. Are you free then? Can we make that work? I promise I'll do some reading and research on my own during the week so I'm prepared." Adrien's green eyes held concern as he looked at Marinette. She smiled reassuringly.

"Adrien, don't worry. It's cool. We can work separately until Saturday, then put it all together. Let's say nine o'clock, here at the school library. Hey, before you go, though?" Adrien reached for his bag, but put it back down and gave her his attention. "Am I supposed to choose one of these interpretations that Miss Bustier put in our handout, or do we prepare both sides together?"

Adrien looked closely at his handout and reflected a moment. "Hmm. She doesn't really say. I think we'd be better off as a team, don't you? She said a debate-style presentation, but here at the end, she tells us to try to find a reconciliation or synthesis of the two opinions on the poem's meaning. That would be easier if we understand both sides, right?"

Marinette nodded. "Okay then, sounds fine to me. Fair warning, I'm not great at this poetry stuff."

"Ha, don't worry, nobody is," he grinned, then waved goodbye and strode away, slinging his bag over one shoulder.

* * *

 

"I'm going to knock this out early, then have tons of time to polish what I've written before I meet Adrien on Saturday," declared Marinette, one fist clenched as she and Alya walked through the front doors of the school.

"That's the spirit!" Alya agreed cheerfully.

She'd mostly recovered from the disappointment of being partnered with Chloe. The two girls quickened their pace as a few drops of rain ghosted through the air to land on their heads and arms. The bell over the door jingled as they entered the Tom & Sabine Boulangerie Patisserie and Marinette's parents looked up with welcoming smiles.

"How was school, Sweetie?" asked Marinette's father from behind the day-old display case, where he was arranging leftover breakfast items.

"Fine, Papa! How are things here?" Marinette stood on tiptoe to give her tall father a kiss.

As the two girls passed through the narrow space between the pastry cases to the back of the bakery, Marinette gave her mother a peck on the cheek.

"A good day," Sabine Cheng confirmed. "Ah, Marinette, don't forget it's spring cleaning week. I left a list of chores for you on the kitchen counter."

Marinette's lips came down in a pout. "But Maman, Alya and I have some stuff we were going to work on! Can it wait?"

"Finish the list before bedtime. Between then and now, you can arrange your time how you like." Her mother answered with a smile, but Marinette could hear the steel in her voice. Marinette had a sudden idea.

"But… I have a report to work on," she said in a small voice, exaggerating the pout and looking up at her mother through thick eyelashes. At Sabine's expression, she knew it was a lost cause. She'd learned this look _from_ her mother, after all.

"Finish the list before bedtime," replied her mother firmly. Marinette nodded and the girls left the bakery to walk up the back staircase. Her head bowed, Marinette missed the amused expression on her father's face.

"Thanks for handling that one, Honey," he said to his wife. "God knows, she's so much like you I can't say no to anything. Especially when she puts on her Sabine face." He crossed the bakery floor to sweep his tiny wife into his arms and she giggled, bringing a hand to her mouth.

"You give me too much credit. That look has passed through my family in an unbroken line for at least four generations. I used to try it on my mom, too." Sabine reached up and curled a finger in Tom's mustache, causing him to quirk an eyebrow down at her. "Now, _there's_ an irresistible look," she chuckled and he leaned in to kiss her. They pulled back at the sound of tiny feet stamping down the stairs. The back door of the bakery swung open.

"Looking for snacks, dear?" Tom asked, never taking his eyes away from Sabine.

"Ye-es," Marinette responded, eyeing her parents. "Shouldn't you two be working?" Tom grinned down at his wife and gave her one more loud smack on the lips, then released her back to the spot behind the cash register.

"Your commentary is not required, little one," he admonished as he lifted out several cookies and sweet items with tongs and set them in a paper box. He handed the bundle to his daughter with a bow and a flourish, making his two favorite ladies giggle.

"Oookay, Papa. Thanks." Marinette took off for her room again and didn't stop until she reached her balcony. She found Alya lounging in her chair, checking something on her phone. "Ummm… Alya?" Marinette pointed up at the sky as she looked at her friend.

"Hmmm?" Alya tried to tear her eyes away from her screen, but didn't quite make it.

"Do you like your phone?" Marinette asked. The cryptic remark got her best friend's attention.

"Yeah, why?"

"'Cause it's about to get drenched. Come inside," Marinette smiled at Alya's sheepish grin as she followed her back down into her room.

Marinette secured the skylight just as the first real drops of rain began to patter down on the roof. The two friends settled comfortably on Marinette's bed, enjoying the pretty show of water splashing on the skylight with the box of treats between them.

Marinette leaned forward, excited to rehash the school day with her bestie. "So, did you see Juleka's new-" she was interrupted by a loud buzz from Alya's phone.

Alya grabbed it immediately, unable to stop herself, and looked down at the notification, the light from the screen reflecting off of her glasses. Marinette sighed. She was used to being phubbed by Alya, but usually her friend could manage to wait until Marinette finished her sentence. Alya gasped and Marinette's irritation was immediately forgotten as the other girl turned the screen outward.

"Mari- _nette_! Look what came up in my _news_ -feed!" she sing-songed and bounced up and down on the comforter. Marinette grabbed her hand to try and steady the phone.

"Gabriel Agreste Releases Summer Season _Sketchbook_?!" she shrieked as she read the headline. "We have to check this out!" The pair dove down Marinette's ladder to her computer desk and pulled up the Agreste brand website on her favorites list.

In moments, they were flipping through a gorgeous gallery of images and sketches, annotated in a handwriting-style font with further ideas and fabric suggestions. There were designs for men, women, boys and girls. She could see that the drawings of the young men strongly resembled Adrien. "They're so beautiful," she said in wonder.

Alya chuckled and placed her hands on her best friend's shoulders. "Girl, you're hilarious. _Everything_ Gabriel Agreste designs is the best thing ever, to you. You want to walk over and congratulate him?" She laughed some more as Marinette turned toward her, the color draining from her face. "I'm kidding! I'm kidding."

"Of course you are," Marinette said with a small laugh. "Duh," she told herself under her breath.

Not that Gabriel Agreste would ever value the opinion of a high-school fan that idolized him. Now that she knew his son a little, she'd thought that maybe their spheres might be a bit less distant, but his absence from anything to do with Adrien's school actually made Mr. Agreste seem more unreachable.

Alya stood on the fourth stair and rummaged around Marinette's loft until she retrieved the box of cookies, bringing it down to rest on the computer desk. Marinette rolled to the side to allow Alya to bring the chaise around so they could flip through the designs as they munched. Alya only half-watched the screen, her grin growing wider and wider as Marinette grew more engrossed.

"You've got that look in your eye. Inspiration's hitting, isn't it?" she asked, snatching another cookie and crunching down on it.

"Yeah," breathed Marinette. She reached for her design sketch pad and a stray pencil and pressed the graphite into a fresh sheet of paper with neat strokes. She glanced up at the screen and flipped back a couple of pages to a tailored mens' shirt that had caught her eye.

Alya shook her head with a chuckle. "I've lost you. We'll hang out tomorrow, Marinette." She stood and stretched, her plaid shirt lifting away from her torso. "I'm tired anyway. Hey, girl," when Marinette didn't respond, she leaned over and shook her friend on the shoulder.

"Oh! Sorry, what did you say? Are you leaving already?" Marinette blinked up at the bespectacled girl standing over her and straightened up in her seat. "I'm sorry, Alya, stay - I can do this later." Alya waved her hands at the bluenette.

"No, don't put your paper away. It's fine, girl! I just wanted to remind you - don't forget you have chores to do downstairs."

"Ooh, thank you. I'd forgotten already." Marinette stood and gave her friend a hug, then opened the trapdoor for her and waved her out. Dropping the small, square door back into place, she reseated herself at the computer and continued drawing until dinner time, her report and handout completely forgotten.

After dinner, Marinette picked up her list of chores and sighed. Her mother kept a clean house, so there wasn't all that much to do, but Marinette was already regretting her inclination to let her imagination run wild for the last few hours. _1) Wash the curtains_. She sighed again and dragged a kitchen chair to the windows, then stood on it to reach up to the curtain rod.

"Let me help you with that," Tom offered, pausing his video game and standing up from the couch.

"Thanks, Papa," she responded as the first rod came down easily in his strong grip. She shucked the curtains off, balling them up as he brought down the remaining rods for her. Glancing out the window, it felt a little odd and exposing to have their curtains down in the evening, but Marinette hadn't yet changed into pajamas or anything, so she supposed it was no problem if someone saw in from the dark streets outside. "How come you don't have any chores to do?"

"I did!" he responded in mock defense. "I just did them all before dinner."

He helped her stack the curtain rods to one side, then sat back down in the comfortable living room. Marinette carried the light bundle to the small washing machine tucked away in the flat's laundry cabinet. The curtains weren't heavy, but they were bulky. She divided the pile into two loads and got the first one started. Okay, next chore. _2) Remove expired items from the fridge - recycle the containers!_ Hmmm, that should be easy. Marinette yanked open the fridge, and sure enough, the door was full of glass and plastic jars, some of which hadn't moved in ages. She lifted each one to check sell-by dates and expirations and placed the rejects on the kitchen counter. She squeezed or spooned out the contents of the jars, then washed them in the sink.

"Oh, thank you, dear!" her mother said as she breezed past and dropped a kiss on her teen's head. "I never have time to wash the old jars out, but I hate to toss them when they could be recycled."

"No problem, Maman," replied Marinette, rinsing the last of the suds from her waterlogged fingers and holding up a sparkling clean jelly jar. She loaded the clean jars into the recycle bin, except for one that was perfect for holding her errant button collection. Just then, she heard the clothes washer end its cycle, so she moved her curtain load to the dryer and started the second one.

Last chore. _3) Sweep and mop the stairs._ Marinette looked at the list in dismay. Her mom had definitely left the worst for last! She didn't mind the sweeping so much, but mopping stairs was a serious pain. She never could decide whether starting at the bottom or the top was worse. "Maman, _really_?" she griped under her breath, but she knew it was no use taking it up with the authority. She'd waste time arguing and still have to do it.

Marinette grabbed the broom and dustpan from their tiny closet and got to work at the top of the stairs, draping her black jacket over the banister gently. She blasted old dirt and particles down ahead of her as fast as she could, reasoning that if she cut her sweeping time in half, the whole chore might not seem as bad. She was right, she thought as her breathing and heart rate increased and a few endorphins worked their way through her system.

Noting their relative isolation on the staircase, TIkki finally poked her head out of Marinette's jacket where she'd been hiding since dinner. She floated down to nestle in the spot between her chosen's left pigtail and her neck.

"Hi, Tikki. This is the last chore." Marinette said between puffs of heavy breath. "I wish Miraculous Ladybug worked on dirty old staircases!" Marinette punctuated her sentence with quick thrusts of the broom.

"Maybe if you think of it as character building, it won't seem so bad," Tikki mused. Marinette almost thought the kwami might be mocking her, but she decided she didn't actually want to know, so she said nothing. "Well," Tikki continued, "I'm here to keep you company at least. Do you want to talk about anything?"

"Ooh, did you see those new designs earlier? I didn't know if you were watching while Alya was in the room." Marinette reached the bottom of the stairs and looked at the dustpan, then shrugged and opened the backdoor to sweep her pile of dirt outside. There hadn't been any trash on the stairs, after all. She sent the dirt across the sidewalk into the gutter. Finished with part the first! On to mopping.

"Yes, I saw them. You were really inspired, I could tell! I love having such a creative thinker for my chosen." Marinette stopped at the unexpected compliment and reached up to pull Tikki from her neck.

"Thank you, Tikki. I love having you with me, as well!" she gave her kwami a kiss on the head, touched by her regard. She replaced the broom and dustpan and relieved the tiny closet of the mop and bucket. "This part is the worst," she grumbled to Tikki, grateful that the little kwami didn't chide her for being bratty. She elected to try going up the stairs this time, so that no water could slosh back down over her feet. Plus, it would put her nearer her room, so she wouldn't be stuck downstairs waiting for the mop water to dry.

Tikki stayed out of sight in the stairwell while Marinette filled the mop pail in the kitchen sink. With a bucket of fresh soapy suds, she bent to the work, imagining herself as Ladybug and this chore just one more akuma in her way. In less than half an hour, the staircase sparkled, and a sweaty, tired Marinette swiped her hand across her brow at the top of the bakery's staircase.

"Way to go, Marinette!" Tikki cheered, bobbing up and down happily.

"Glad that's over with," Marinette agreed, panting slightly with the effort. Giggling, she leaned over the banister and lifted her leg, straddling the narrow rail. "Going down!" she laughed, coming back to the second floor. The landing was already dry. She pushed her torso up and off the rail and hopped neatly onto the floor. "All done, Maman! I just need to wait for the stairs to dry and I'll dump the mop water."

"I appreciate it, dear. Your dryer load buzzed, so I put the rest of the curtains in and ran it for you."

"Thank you!" Marinette gathered up the first dry bundle and her father helped her set the curtains back up. Sabine followed them into the living room and curled into Tom's side.

"Now, doesn't that look nice," she complimented, obviously pleased about her tidy home. Marinette smiled. She had the best - and cutest - mom and dad in all of Paris. Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she grabbed it, startled. Her eyebrows climbed into her hair as she looked at the screen, her parents watching curiously.

"Um, Alya sent me something. She... wants me to watch it on a bigger screen. I'll come back down when the dryer load is done!" Marinette skedaddled up the stairs to her room, Tikki tucked close to her side.

"What is it, Marinette?" asked Tikki when the trap door was firmly shut.

"Akuma attack. We need to head over to Le Grand Paris and see what the fuss is all about. Tikki, spots on!" With that, Ladybug scaled her loft and leapt out of her room to stand below threatening thunderclouds. Rain hissed down intermittently as she swung out into the wet, cool air to save Paris once again.

Monday evening found Ladybug and Chat Noir perched on a damp rooftop, watching as another of Hawkmoth's victims shook off the last of their akuma-induced confusion and headed back home.

"When will Hawkmoth ever give up?" Ladybug asked, more to herself than her cat-suited companion.

"Who knows?" Chat Noir answered. He shook his head and a fine spray of rainwater pelted Ladybug's arm.

"Thanks for that, Chat Noir. Should I get you a towel?" she squinted up at the gray clouds that had been covering Paris for a week.

"No need," Chat Noir replied, flicking away droplets from his arm. "This kitty's waterproof. I'll be fine."

Ladybug sighed. "This rain is just… unrelenting. If it keeps up, the Seine is going to overflow its banks."

"I don't know, I think it's kind of romantic. Fighting crime in the rain, two people alone against the world… "

"Not exactly the world. Just Hawkmoth."

"What made you think of the Seine?"

"Oh, nothing. Something I was reading."

"Well, you make a good point. We should be ready - remember last summer, when the river flooded the Louvre and they had to move all the paintings? It might be good to be on hand to help."

"Ah, so you appreciate fine art, huh?"

"I appreciate all kinds of things, not the least of which is ladybugs," he said, leaning in close to Ladybug's shoulder.

"How about you appreciate my space?" she replied, pressing a playful finger to his nose and leaning away. Her miraculous beeped at that moment. "Time's up, Chat. Catch you next time. Bug out!" she let loose her yo-yo and swung away from the rooftop into the dull, gray evening twilight.


	2. Tuesday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette ignores Tikki's good advice and goofs off instead of working on her report. It's only Tuesday, after all!

When Marinette came down to the kitchen Tuesday morning, yawning, she was struck by how much light came into the room. Her parents were both down in the bakery, but a small note on the kitchen counter caught her eye.

 _Forget something?_ She read as she held it between finger and thumb. Puzzled, she looked around - then noticed half the living room curtains were missing! "I can't believe I forgot!" she castigated herself with a groan. Marinette ran to the dryer in her pajamas and grabbed the fluffy round lump of curtains, then ran to living room and loaded them on the rods as fast as she could. She dragged a chair back over and struggled to lift and replace the rods above the windows. Much more awkward without her papa to help, she grumbled, but it was her own fault.

She raced to the stairwell and lifted the heavy mop bucket with both hands to her chest, taking careful steps back down to the kitchen. She made it down the stairs successfully, but the bucket overbalanced when she tipped it into the kitchen sink, and spilled half its contents on the floor. With a growl of frustration, Marinette ran back up the staircase for the old mop. _And now I remember why I start at the top,_ she thought darkly as she mopped up the mess. If the bucket had been at the bottom, she could have just dumped it in the gutter and been done with it.

Her chores finally finished, Marinette checked the time on her phone, her shoulders deflating. Great. "I've got fifteen minutes left until school starts, Tikki," she reported, trudging back up the stairs to her room to get dressed.

"I know balancing Ladybug with your daily life isn't easy," Tikki replied sympathetically, "But really, you do a great job. Come on, you're not late yet! Let's get ready to go!" Tikki's enthusiasm was infectious. Marinette felt her spirits lift a little.

"Okay! You're right, Tikki. This can still be a great day!"

Lunchtime found Marinette, Alya, and Nino headed to her parent's bakery for something to eat.

"No Adrien today, huh? Hope the second string is okay with you," Alya teased Nino. Marinette tried to look nonchalant as she hung on every word of his reply.

"Nah, he had to go home. Something about scheduling, that's all I heard. He hates it when Nathalie treats his lunch hour like an information session." Nino shrugged as the three teens filed into the bakery.

"Hi Maman," Marinette greeted her mother with a smile, the other two echoing hellos of their own. They perused the available selections, Marinette rounding the back of one case to take out what she wanted. Alya pointed out a few things as well, touching a fingertip to the glass.

"You kids must run it all off in P.E.," Tom rumbled. Marinette looked up to see him shaking his head over a sheepish Nino, who had a stack of goodies piled high in his arms.

"I couldn't help it!" he defended himself. "It's all so good!" The girls giggled as Tom helped Nino load his prizes into a paper sack that strained to hold its contents.

"Let's eat in the kitchen," suggested Marinette, and the other two followed her lead through the back of the bakery and up the stairs. They arranged themselves, their lunches, and their baked goods around the kitchen table.

"Uh, Nino?" Alya looked at the young man from behind her sandwich, one eyebrow quirked. "Don't you think maybe _lunch_ first, then dessert?" Nino wiped crumbs off his lips, the only remaining evidence of the cookie he'd consumed in two big bites.

"What are you, my maman? Let me eat these delicious cookies in peace, woman," He gave a mock scowl, which was ruined when his cheeks puffed out around the cookie in his mouth.

Marinette giggled, covering her smile with the fingers of one hand as Alya turned her penetrating stare on her. Nino swallowed and grinned at her, deliberately selecting another cookie from his overfull bakery bag and raising it for all to view. Alya rolled her eyes and pushed out a breath, exasperated.

"Fine, whatever," she assented, but Marinette saw the corners of her lips twitch as her goofy boyfriend made a show of tearing into the new cookie with a wide chomp.

The small group chatted comfortably about the school day for a while. The patter of new rain started over their heads, making the three of them look up, then out the windows to confirm that a new shower was coming down over the building.

"We've got a bunch of umbrellas, guys. Don't worry." Marinette assured them as they gathered up their lunch bags and tossed trash into the kitchen trashcan.

"It's not me I'm worried about; I've got a bunch of sound equipment in my locker," Nino groaned. "I have some plastic sheets and stuff to put over it, but I was hoping to avoid wrapping everything up for my gig later."

"You have a gig today? Why didn't you tell me?" Alya exclaimed, grabbing him by the shoulders and jumping up and down. Nino chuckled and grabbed her hands to hold them. Marinette gave a little sigh. The two of them were so cute, especially when they didn't mean to be.

"Last minute thing. I forgot to mention it. They didn't exactly say it, but they want someone cheap, and a freelancing high-schooler fits the bill." He laughed at Alya's scowl. "I don't take it personally, Babe. I _am_ cheap - for now, anyway. Still bringin' the goods, though. Gotta build my reputation." They turned to leave, Nino keeping hold of one of Alya's hands as the group made their way down the staircase. One extra-large red-and-white striped umbrella was enough for the three of them to huddle under as they returned to school.

The three teens went to the locker room to change out books for their afternoon classes before the bell rang. Marinette's ears perked up as she heard Nino voicing his dismay across the room.

"Dude, _more_ fittings this evening? Geez, your pops is working you to the bone, man! When does he expect you to sleep?" The sarcasm wasn't heavy, but it was more than Marinette was used to hearing from her childhood friend. She glanced over her shoulder to see Nino patting a glum-looking Adrien on the arm. Her heart sank when she saw the edges of her crush's mouth curve down in a slight frown.

"It's lame, but it'll be okay," Adrien said, straightening up and putting on a smile for his best friend. To Marinette's hawk-eyes, the expression seemed false. The smile dropped away again as he continued, "I just wish I'd get some advance warning sometimes. It's not like I'm five and have nowhere else to be, you know? There's other things I need to be doing - _want_ to be doing. I'd _like_ to have a life, even if it's just a tiny one, crammed in between all this other… stuff. But the expectation is he says 'go' and I drop everything and go." Adrien pushed out a heavy sigh, but then to Marinette's relief, a genuine smile graced his features. "Thanks, man. Sometimes I just need to say it, you know?"

"Always and anytime, bro." Nino's mouth broke into a broad grin and the two friends fist-bumped, then shouldered their bags and walked out together. Marinette gave a little sigh and flipped her locker closed. That tiny light in his green eyes...she wished it would turn on for her, too. Of course, she'd probably be jelly if it did.

"Ready to go?" asked Alya. Marinette nodded. They walked into class and got settled for the rest of the school day.

* * *

 

"Tikki, I'm so tired!" Marinette whined as she flopped onto her chaise lounge, arms akimbo, eyes closed with a sigh.

The remainder of the school day had stayed blessedly uneventful - except for more rain - and Marinette had been glad of the giant umbrella on her way home. She'd had dinner with her parents and finished her chores, and now she stretched out on the chaise, feeling completely lethargic with regard to doing anything useful with her time.

Tikki took a prim seat on the edge of Marinette's desk and watched her chosen. Marinette's phone chimed with a text receipt notification. She rolled over onto her stomach to check it; it was Alya, proposing an after-dinner ice cream. _DEFINITELY!_ Marinette texted back as Tikki watched over one shoulder.

"Marinette, maybe you should go over your poem instead," Tikki suggested. "You just said you were tired. You can save ice cream for another night."

Marinette sighed. "I'm too tired for this report. That takes brain power, and I don't have any left. Not too tired for ice cream. That only takes taste buds and a stomach. I'll read the poem tomorrow. There's plenty of time left."

"Okay, Marinette, but don't put it off for too long. Saturday will be here before you know it." Tikki flew to Marinette's desk and took a chocolate chip cookie off of a plate there. "Hmm. This one's a little stale."

"I could get you one downstairs… but how about a sweet treat at the ice cream parlor instead? They might have something different you can't get here at the bakery." Marinette ran her fingers over Tikki's little head affectionately.

"Yeah! That sounds fun! But do they have anything you can put in your purse that won't melt?"

Marinette laughed. "Probably. We'll have to find out!" She glanced out her window at the city, slowly turning dark and punctuated with street lights as the sun set behind thick clouds. "Let's get down there while the rain is stopped," she suggested and threw on her purse, opening the hasp to let Tikki inside. She closed it securely and went downstairs to tell her parents where she was going.

"So, how's it going with your poem?" Alya asked as they walked out of the ice cream parlor and seated themselves at a cafe table with a colorful umbrella above it.

"I haven't started yet. But it's not like Adrien has either, I bet. He's got Chinese on Monday, basketball on Wednesday, fencing on Friday, and then whatever his dad is insisting on having him do Tuesday and Thursday. It must be exhausting," Marinette shook her head sympathetically and licked her ice cream cone.

"Poor widdle teen model," Alya gave a mock pout. "Life's tough when you've got it all."

"It is, though!" Marinette defended her crush, arms gesturing for emphasis. Alya ducked a wild lunge from Marinette's ice cream cone with a giggle. "Can you imagine every moment being so scheduled you can't stop to get ice cream, or even get your homework done? Don't you think that would be hard?"

Alya grinned at her. "What I think is you've got a tender heart, Marinette. You could probably find a downside for the life of a butterfly."

"Well, sure, you've got a great chance of getting eaten by a bird, or in this city, getting turned into an evil akuma…" Marinette trailed off as her best friend dissolved into giggles.

"See! I was right! You did it without even trying." Alya laughed again. Marinette tried to look annoyed, tapping one foot on the sidewalk, but she had to give in and crack a smile. Alya was right, after all. She finished her ice cream cone and threw her napkin in a nearby waste bin.

"How is your report going?" she asked. Alya's face turned as dark as the clouds over their heads.

"I don't know how she gets away with it," she fumed. "That girl does no work, puts in no effort… we were 100 percent right, Marinette. _Sabrina_ called me to set up a study date. She says Chloe will be there, but I'll believe it when I see it. So while Miss Bustier thinks she's teaching Chloe a lesson, what she's actually done is given Sabrina two reports to prepare. I'd tell Mr. Damocles if I thought it would do any good, but it's more likely I'd endanger my own grade on this project. At least I know Sabrina will do a good job. Chloe can't keep this up forever, though. Someday, somebody's got to call her out! The whole situation makes me so angry!" She punctuated the statement by throwing her paper napkin to the damp sidewalk, then sighed and leaned over to pick it up.

"Let's talk about something else," Marinette suggested. She didn't like to see her friend so upset.

"That's a good idea. Oh, wait, that's a great idea! I forgot to tell you - I have new footage on the Ladyblog! Here, take a look." Alya whipped out her phone and pressed play on an image of Marinette from the previous day.

"Wow, this is great! Where were you?" Marinette asked as she watched herself leap across several rooftops and turn a cartwheel to avoid an attack.

"Oh, just a little place called the library. Where they keep the books. You know, the things we use for homework." Alya couldn't keep teasing as she watched the video on her phone with Marinette. "I had to clean up the footage a little before I could post it, that's why it took so long. Ooh, this is where she used her lucky charm! Good thing, too. That akuma villain was busting in some of the windows; glass was going everywhere."

"Victim," Marinette said quietly.

"What's that?"

"They're victims, not villains. If anyone should know that, it's us, right?" Marinette chided.

"Right, right. I know Hawkmoth's the real villain. Sorry, Marinette, I get the distinction. Since when does it bother you so much?" Alya shot a suspicious glance at her friend.

"Oh! Ha, it doesn't really. It's just so many of our friends - and you, too - have been swept up in Hawkmoth's evil schemes. When someone's been akumatized, I guess I just feel better thinking of them as trapped, needing help, rather than this big angry monster stomping around the city." Marinette shrugged, hoping the answer would satisfy her curious friend.

"Hey, ladies, fancy meeting you here," said a familiar voice and both girls looked up from Alya's phone. Nino stood at the entrance of the ice cream parlor, smiling down at them.

"Nino!" Alya jumped up to crush her boyfriend in a fierce hug. He laughed at her enthusiastic display and blushed a little, but hugged her back. "What are you doing here? I thought you had a gig?"

"Yeah, it got postponed to Saturday. Something about bubbles, trampolines, and rain not mixing well."

"Bubbles and trampolines? What kind of a show is this?" Alya was baffled.

"Uh… a birthday party," Nino confessed.

"A birthday party," Alya echoed flatly.

"For an eleven-year-old… girl…" Nino trailed off as the pair giggled, unable to help themselves. Nino's smile took on a sharper edge and he leaned down to put his elbows on their table, dropping his voice. "Laugh if you must, but I gotta tell you, eleven-year-olds have got it going on when it comes to music these days. The playlist requests are primo. And _any_ kid who can talk her parents into hiring a DJ for her birthday party _rules_ , in my book. So Saturday it is." He stood up and shrugged, impervious to further teasing.

"So why ice cream, now that your evening is free?" asked Marinette.

"Why not?" Nino replied. "For real though, I'm on a secret mission for Adrien."

"Adrien?" Marinette repeated, hating how strangled her voice sounded. Alya smiled teasingly at her best friend and wiggled her eyebrows, but said nothing and simply put her hand under her chin, giving Nino her full attention.

"Yeah, the Gorilla's even in on it," Nino continued, pointing a thumb over his shoulder at a waiting gray car that had escaped the girl's notice. "Dude's stuck doing a bunch of stupid fittings for some photoshoots later this week. I asked if I could get him anything; he said ice cream. He's not supposed to eat anything, in case he gets it on a shirt or something, but he talked Nathalie into it, so here I am."

"He probably picked ice cream because it's so messy," Alya mused. "Good for him."

"Ha, you're probably right. Well, I better get on it before his dad figures out something's up. Have a lovely evening, ladies." He tipped his cap to them and sailed into the ice cream parlor.

"Such a smoothie," Alya complimented to his back as he walked away. He turned one last time and pointed a finger at her with a snap, then winked.

"I probably better get going," Marinette said, stifling a tiny yawn.

"Me too. I'll walk with you; your place is on my way home," Alya agreed. The two filled the time chatting as distant thunder rumbled.

"Hey, here's your stop." Alya looked up at the sign for the Dupain-Cheng's bakery. The two friends hugged.

"Thanks for the invitation; it was good to get out in the air while this rain takes a break," Marinette said. "Call me when you get home, okay?"

"Sure thing!" Alya winked at her bestie. "See you at school."

Up in her room, Marinette looked up Mirabeau Bridge and checked the weather forecast for the rest of the week. More rain, she thought, disappointed.

"Tikki, what if the Louvre really does flood? What if it happens during school? Chasing down akumas is one thing, but does preserving priceless art count as superhero work?"

"Don't worry about it for tonight. You can't change the weather, after all," Tikki's advice was sound.

"You're right. It's time to go to bed." Marinette changed into pajamas, brushed her teeth, and climbed up into her loft. She pulled the covers up to her neck and watched dim raindrops splatter onto her skylight and run down to the roof. Within minutes, their steady sound lulled her to sleep.


	3. Wednesday and Thursday Pt. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrien deals with life as a teen model. Marinette reveals a secret or two about Jagged Stone.

On Wednesday morning, Adrien pulled a crumpled piece of paper from his school bag as his bodyguard drove him to school. This was the first time he'd had a chance to read _Le Pont Mirabeau_ by Guillaume Apollinaire since the poem had been assigned to them on Monday. Hmmm. Well, obviously it was about being in love and being sad. He glanced up at the windshield wipers as they cleared another spatter of raindrops. The weather this week matched the poem. If he only had time, a trip to Mirabeau Bridge might be a good idea for the report, but there was no way. Maybe Marinette would agree to go there on Saturday instead of meeting at the library. The car halted at the curb in front of College Francoise Dupont and idled as Adrien stuffed his handout back in his satchel and opened the door.

"Thanks," he called back over his shoulder as he got out and headed up the steps to the main building.

As usual, his driver-slash-bodyguard said nothing. The only time Adrien had seen an ounce of emotion from the man was when spiders had crawled all over his bedroom floor. Adrien hadn't ever tried to talk to the Gorilla about it, and hadn't ever mentioned it to his dad. The Gorilla was a good guy, just doing his job. Not his fault another akuma had taken over another person in Adrien's path.

He thought back to last year, when his friend Lila became Volpina. Or sort-of friend. He and Lila's brand-new friendship had never really bounced back after she was akumatized. Several of the students at College Francoise Dupont had also figured out she was lying about a lot of stuff. She had retreated into herself and wasn't as talkative as before. Not to mention the way Ladybug had told her off; that still bothered Adrien all these months later. At least Ladybug had apologized and tried to make it right.

Adrien realized he'd reached the door of the classroom and was pulled from his thoughts by Nino's welcoming smile.

"Hey, man! How's it going? Basketball later, right?" They high-fived as Adrien slid into his seat in the front row.

"You know it. I feel a total crushing victory coming on, too."

"That's what I'm talking about." Nino's grin stretched even wider as he pulled out a pen and notebook for class.

The school day passed quickly for Adrien. After lunch, afternoon classes, and basketball practice, he shuffled slowly out the school's doors to the waiting car, trying to make the time away from home last a little longer. The gray sidewalks were damp from the light, misty drizzle falling over the city.

"Hey, Adrien! Wait!" a girl's voice called out. Adrien looked back to see Marinette running after him, a small book raised in one hand. She came at him too quickly, skidded on the wet cement, and nearly crashed into him, stopping herself just in time. "Oops, uh, haha, sorry about that," she apologized, out of breath and dark blue hair slightly askew.

"It's all good," he assured her. "What's up?"

"They had two copies of a Guillaume Apollinaire biography in the library; I picked one up for you, in case we want it for our project." Marinette handed him the slim volume. He took it from her and dropped it into his satchel.

"Hey, thanks. How is your research going?" he asked.

"It's going… great! How about you?"

"Oh, yeah, great!" he lied. "Looking forward to Saturday. Should be a piece of cake." He mentally kicked himself for the bold lie. He could almost hear Plagg's snicker from within his white overshirt.

"Yeah, if the Seine doesn't flood," he thought he heard Marinette mutter.

"What was that?"

"Huh? Oh, I said, yeah, it's all looking good!" She smiled up innocently and he decided he was hearing things.

"Well, I'll see you tomorrow. Have a good night." He ducked his head to take a seat in the back of the car.

"Good you night too! I mean, too you! I mean, you have a good night, too!" Marinette waved as the car pulled away, looking slightly confused.

Sometimes she did that; Adrien didn't know why, but he thought it was a little cute. As the car rumbled through the streets of Paris, Adrien took out the little book and glanced through it. _Le Pont Mirabeau_ was reprinted in full; apparently it was the poet's most famous work. There wasn't much else Adrien found helpful, though. He guessed maybe a few details on the poet's life and relationships could be useful for background information. He put the book back as they pulled up to his father's mansion. He got out and walked up the steps to the broad front doors.

"Adrien! We've been waiting for you!" an unfamiliar voice sang out as he walked in.

A tall man in plaid pants, a black leather scarf and glasses gestured grandly from the other side of the foyer. A tripod with an expensive-looking digital camera stood in one corner, with several umbrella reflectors and bounce cards set up around it.

"Um, hi?" he responded, his satchel slipping from his shoulder. Nathalie appeared out of nowhere and took it from him, presumably to deliver it to his room. "Thanks, Nathalie," he said; she gave only the slightest inclination of her head to show she'd heard him, an uncharacteristic frown creasing her lips. She melted away into the shadows and he was alone with the stranger again.

"I'm Monsieur Jak Thomas. Your father has engaged my services for the new line of teen male casual wear he's putting out next season." The man cocked his head and tapped one toe, his finger at his cheek. "Yes, your hair is just fine for now and Brandi can give you a little makeup… we're taking a few test photos today in preparation for the beach shoot on Sunday."

"What beach shoot on Sunday? Cool scarf, by the way." Adrien was irritated, but couldn't pass up the chance to admire black leather.

"Ah, thank you. Just a little something I picked up in some place or another. Your father has arranged a shoot on a private beach in Saint-Tropez this Sunday - has he not mentioned this to you?" Monsieur Thomas lifted an eyebrow and his beady eyes stared through his black frames into Adrien's.

Irrationally, Adrien felt driven to stick up for his dad, who had completely omitted any mention of a Sunday photo shoot to him. "Oh, right! That beach shoot! Sorry, it's been a long day." He stepped forward and put on his best camera smile, projecting the confidence that was expected from a famous teen model. "Where would you like me to go?"

At that moment, a short young woman in a white smock bustled over and gestured for him to sit in a folding chair near the lights. Her curly bleach-blonde hair was divided into precise ringlets that hung down past her shoulders all around her head. He amused himself by trying to count exactly how many there were while she dusted him with powder, put cover-up on a pimple, and generally made him 'presentable'. Nathalie reappeared with a stack of homework from his bag.

"What are we starting with, Nathalie?" he asked, chin lifted as his 'just fine' hair was suddenly doused with an expensive mousse and blow-dried to perfection.

"Maths," she responded. She pulled out a pencil and calculator.

"Okay, what's the first problem?" He and Nathalie had completed his homework this way a lot of times. She would state the question, he would give a verbal answer, or give directions on how to get the answer, and she would write it down. He'd found none of his teachers ever checked handwriting - and besides, he wasn't cheating. He just wasn't allowed to move right now.

Thirty minutes later, Adrien was finally deemed ready for the camera - and his maths homework was three-quarters of the way done. He got up from the chair and stepped into the center of the circle of lights. The photos took the better part of an hour. Adrien could hear his stomach growling by the end.

"Goodness, is that you or me?" asked Monsieur Thomas, patting his flat stomach. "I think we're done for today. Is your father coming down?"

"I don-" Adrien began, but stopped when he saw Gabriel Agreste standing tall at the top of the stairs, Nathalie moving up quickly to stand at one side behind him.

"We can discuss logistics in my office, Monsieur Thomas. Adrien, you are free to go to your room and finish your homework; your dinner is waiting for you there." His father turned ever so slightly, a subtle inclination for the fashion photographer to follow him.

"Yes, Father," Adrien acknowledged his dismissal as his father walked off without a backward glance. He took his stack of homework from the small side table Nathalie had left it on and walked up the stairs to his room.

With the door shut securely, Plagg popped out of Adrien's overshirt and floated languidly on his back across the room.

"Geez, they barely give you time to eat around here!" he complained and then zeroed in on the small wheel of camembert included with Adrien's dinner dishes.

"You're not joking," Adrien agreed as he joined his smelly friend on his couch.

He took a breath through his mouth and shut his nose to avoid the cheese's awful odor, then lifted the lid on his own dinner. Ah, he was eating American tonight - a burger topped with mushrooms and Swiss cheese, with _pommes frites_ on the side. His stomach gave a loud growl and he dug in. For a while, he and Plagg devoured their food in companionable silence. After a sip of water, he glanced over at Plagg and asked, "So have you ever thought about Swiss instead? It's pretty good." He offered a bite of burger to the small kwami, but Plagg's round, black head shook firmly.

"I know what you're trying to do, Bud. There is no way I'll switch to Swiss. Camembert," he sighed dramatically as he ate the last morsel on the plate, "is simply the best."

"You can't blame me for trying. Besides, you used to enjoy a little more variety," Adrien answered. "I'm sure my chef thinks it's super great I have such a love affair with one stinky cheese."

"Who cares what he thinks anyway?" Plagg dismissed the idea with the wave of one paw. "So, anything good on TV?"

"You're welcome to check, but I have homework to finish," Adrien sighed and stood.

He left the stainless steel tray with his dishes in the hall outside his door. Putting his tray out when he ate in his room always made him feel like he lived in a hotel, but taking it to the kitchen had resulted in a telling off from his father, via Nathalie. Tonight, he was grateful he could get going on the homework sooner and get to bed right after that.

He jumped and landed on his bed stomach first, upsetting the neat stack of books and papers he'd set down earlier. Maths, science, history… the assignments added up, but he was in a good mood, now that he wasn't hungry. He tackled them one at a time as the sun went down beyond his windows. At the last, he opened up the Guillaume Apollinaire biography again to give it a more thorough look. Marinette's face, topped with blue hair in pigtails, flashed through his mind as he did so. Laid flat out on the bed, chin barely above his black comforter, he fell asleep with the book still open to _Le Pont Mirabeau_.

* * *

 

Thursday morning came too soon for Marinette. She groaned as her phone blared a wakeup alarm and stretched a hand out from under her covers to silence it. Yawning as she came down from her loft, Marinette rubbed her sleepy eyes and blinked, looking around for Tikki.

"Tikki? Where are you this morning?" A tiny snore, no louder than the buzzing of a bee, drifted down from the loft. She laughed. "Oh, man, why are we still so tired, Tikki? It's got to be this weather." Marinette leaned against the glass of her window to look up at the clouds.

Dressed in her school clothes with a still-sleepy Tikki tucked into her jacket, Marinette descended the stairs to her parents' kitchen. "Good morning!" she greeted her mother, who handed her a bowl of oatmeal.

"Good morning, sweetheart. Anything special going on today?" Sabine Cheng asked, sipping from a delicate cup of coffee.

"Nope, just a normal Thursday." Marinette replied with a shrug.

"Everything going okay at school?"

"Yeah, everything's been good! I have to go, Mom. Have a great day!" Marinette slung her backpack over one shoulder and went down the back bakery staircase to the street.

Alya was waiting when she got to the front doors of the school. "Marinette! You will not believe what is happening today! Jagged Stone decided to do an impromptu concert tonight - they only announced it ten minutes ago! He'll be at the base of the Eiffel Tower. And it's free! Can you believe it?" Marinette joined her best friend, jumping up and down in the school's main doorway squealing.

"This is so unbelievably cool!" Marinette yelled, not caring who heard.

"What's cool?" asked Nino from the steps below them. He walked up amid other students heading to their classes.

"Jagged Stone - free concert - Eiffel Tower - today!" Alya summed up and the girls squealed again, grabbing hands in their excitement.

"Man, I'm there!" Nino agreed. Marinette caught sight of Adrien exiting his dad's gray car down by the curb and Alya waved at him.

"Hey Adrien! You're a Jagged fan, right? There's a concert tonight," she called down to him as Marinette subtly attempted to shush her. Alya ignored her and kept talking. "Do you want to go with us?" Adrien's smile was rueful as he walked up the steps to join them.

"Wish I could," he said. "I have stuff going on all evening after school. You guys have a great time, though, okay?" he walked past them, Nino going with him to talk to his buddy. When they were out of sight, Marinette gave a small pout and Alya shrugged.

"Well, I tried," she said as they turned to go to their classroom.

"I appreciate the effort," Marinette sighed. "Hey, wait, though. You want to see something _really_ cool?"

"What could be cooler than a free Jagged Stone concert?" Alya asked, curious. Marinette pulled her phone out of her pocket and started typing. "Watch this," she said cryptically and sat down at the bottom of the nearest staircase. Alya perched over her shoulder, one step up.

_Hi Jagged, what's up? :-)_ she sent to her favorite rock star's personal number. The response came back within seconds.

_M! How's my fav little designer?_

"You're kidding me, Marinette. You have his number? Why have you not told me this!?" Alya hissed like she wanted to shout, but had come all the way back around to whispers. She pressed her face into the space right over Marinette's shoulder, glasses aglow with the reflection of the phone's bright screen.

"He wanted to be in touch in case he wants creative input on anything. I had to promise not to abuse the privilege. We don't, like, check in with each other or text socially - usually. Hold on." Marinette kept typing.

_Just great! I heard you have an impromptu concert this evening. Any chance my friend and I could snag passes backstage?_ Alya gasped and a passing student looked in her direction. She glared at him until he moved on.

_Absolutely! Use this - it'll get you anywhere you need to go._ A selfie of Jagged with a big, cheesy grin popped up on her phone. His fingers and thumb made an exaggerated OK symbol that filled up half the screen. _Just show them the pic at the left side of the stage._

Marinette lifted the phone to give Alya a better glimpse of the photo and both girls cackled greedily.

_Thanks so much, Jagged!_ Marinette responded. She was about to put her phone away when one last message came in.

_LEFT SIDE, got it? Right side is where I send all the schmoozers I want kicked out._

"Wow, Marinette, just wow. You are full of surprises." Alya said, shaking her head as Marinette put her phone in her bag.

"Well, so now you know one of two secrets I know about Jagged. The first is his phone number."

"What's the second?"

"The second is that he's an early bird! Who could have guessed, right?" Marinette giggled as they stood to walk into class.

"Good point! I didn't even think about the fact that only students get up this early." Alya rolled her eyes.

"And bakers," Marinette reminded her.

"And bakers," Alya laughed. They seated themselves behind Nino and Adrien. Alya point to Nino and jerked an eyebrow upward: _Can I tell him?_

Marinette shook her head violently and pantomimed at Adrien's back: _Don't make him feel any worse; he already can't go!_ Alya nodded. They took out their books and pencils to get ready for class.

Miss Bustier turned from where she had been writing at the chalkboard and smiled at her students. "Good morning, everyone. Don't forget you have a report due Monday. I hope you've all been working hard." Marinette felt an overwhelming pang of guilt. She glanced down at the blonde head in front of her. She needed to work on that stupid report tonight… but backstage passes to Jagged Stone… she closed her eyes and covered her face with her palms.

"What's wrong with you? Are you okay, girl?" Alya whispered. Marinette jerked her arms down and sat up straight.

"Yeah, just fine," she whispered back, clutching her pencil and notebook on the desk in front of her. She'd figure it out. There was still Friday, after all.


	4. Thursday Pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Backstage passes to the Jagged Stone concert!!

Adrien sat with Nathalie at lunch, enjoying soup and a sandwich. She had her tablet in her hands and made several swipes with her finger.

"So you'll need to come home right after school, complete your homework immediately, and then we'll drive over to the Eiffel Tower for a few promo photos with Monsieur Thomas."

Adren stopped chewing and swallowed. "The Eiffel Tower? Won't that be pretty crowded?"

Nathalie looked up in surprise. "No more than usual, I'm sure. Why do you say that?"

"There's a Jagged Stone concert happening today. I heard about it at school." Nathalie studied him for a moment, then stood and left without excusing herself. He watched her as she stabbed her fingers forcefully at her phone screen out in the foyer.

Plagg popped out from his hiding spot in Adrien's shirt. "Quick! Gimme the camembert while she's not looking!"

Adrien sighed and opened the brand-new container of cheese sitting next to his plate, which he specially requested every day and which got him strange looks (but no comments yet) from Nathalie. The funky odor hit him like a slap in the face and he nearly threw the cheese at Plagg.

"Ugh. Please eat fast," he begged, holding his nose.

"Ah, ah, ah," Plagg said, waving a claw at Adrien. "Don't rush me." He held a piece of the odiferous cheese and looked at it adoringly. "All mine," he sighed, then threw it high into the air and gulped it down.

Despite his teasing, Plagg finished off the camembert in record time. Only then did Adrien realize it would look odd if Nathalie came back and he'd eaten a whole container of cheese in two minutes flat. Fortunately, she was busy. The duo watched her pace nervously back and forth in the foyer, a loud voice squawking audibly from her phone as she held it away from her ear. At first, Adrien was concerned, but then he realized it didn't sound at all like his father. Who could have the nerve to shout at Nathalie like that? And why was she just taking it? Her cool reserve was legendary. He'd only seen one or two of her put-downs, but he hoped he'd never be on the wrong end of her acid wit. After a few terse exchanges, she disconnected the call. The click of her stylish heels rang out as she stamped back into the enormous dining hall. Plagg made a hasty retreat into Adrien's overshirt. Nathalie's mouth had thinned to a fine line, but she didn't say a word. She sat and went back to her tablet.

"Is… everything okay?" Adrien ventured. He was almost afraid to look at her. This was the most out of temper he'd ever seen his father's assistant.

She sighed, glaring down at the tablet, then visibly relaxed the lines of her face and looked up at him, a neutral and decidedly un-angry expression on her face. "Everything's just fine, Adrien. You may have a change to your schedule this afternoon, but don't let it worry you. I'll fill you in after school. Please come home directly after classes let out, all right?" She stared him down until he nodded, then turned back to her tablet.

Adrien finished his meal in moments and scooted out of the house. "The storm clouds out here can't compete with the ones in there," he muttered to Plagg as they loaded up in the car and headed back to College Francoise Dupont.

"No kidding," his kwami whispered from the safety of Adrien's shirt. "I wonder what that was all about?"

"I'm sure it's all need-to-know," Adrien sighed, "And in my experience, I rarely need to know."

"Yeah, about that," Plagg said, "You can't keep to a schedule just because Nathalie tells you to. If there's an akuma attack, you have to help Ladybug."

"I got it, I got it." Adrien sighed again. "I just hope Hawkmoth is taking a nap this afternoon. I need to be in less trouble, not more. I'm already overloaded with extra schoolwork and these photo shoots. Getting away to be Chat Noir this week has been tricky."

"Paris needs you. Ladybug can't do it without you." Plagg said in a rare moment of seriousness.

Adrien looked at his kwami in surprise. "I'd almost think you care, Plagg." The tiny black kwami ducked his head and Adrien thought that if it were possible, Plagg might be blushing.

"Of course not," he answered, his tone dripping with disdain. "But where else am I going to score this much camembert? You're the best source in Paris."

Adrien laughed. "I find that hard to believe, but whatever you say, Plagg."

The car pulled up to the school and let Adrien out at the curb. Inside the classroom, the students were buzzing. Nino told Adrien: word had gotten out that Alya and Marinette had scored backstage passes to Jagged Stone's concert. He was happy for his friends, but even more disappointed that he couldn't go.

"What's going to happen if it rains this afternoon?" He asked Nino, jerking a thumb at the windows. The colors outside were deepened by the saturation from intermittent drizzle throughout the day.

"It's rain or shine, dude," Nino answered. "Jagged's not one to let a little water stand in his way."

"Fair enough. I hope you have an awesome time," Adrien tried to keep his tone light, despite his gloomy feelings.

He did his best to focus on his afternoon classes, but the day seemed to drag on. After school let out, Chloe cornered him as he stepped quickly away from the locker room and toward the front doors of the school.

"You're not going?" she demanded, following him out of the building.

"Going where?" he asked. All he knew was that he was going home and didn't have time to talk to Chloe. He tried to think of a way to exit the conversation gracefully.

"The stupid concert. It's all anyone's talking about. Blah, blah, blah, Marinette and Alya have backstage passes, blah, blah, blah. So dumb, right?" she stood with her hands on her hips as he opened the car door.

"Well, I would go; I just can't. My dad has stuff he needs me to do." The Gorilla cleared his throat and Adrien was reminded he was on a tight schedule.

"Me, too! That's why I'm not going, too. I would if I could. Well, let me know if your plans change. Maybe we can grab a coffee, instead of getting crushed to death in a crowd of sweaty, screaming people."

"Right. I'll talk to you later, Chloe. Have a good one." Before she could say another word, he jumped into the car and slammed the door. The Gorilla put the car in drive and sped away toward home. "Sorry about that," Adrien apologized. The Gorilla looked at him in the rearview mirror, but didn't say anything.

When Adrien walked in the door, he could tell something had changed. Nathalie was waiting for him in the foyer, her composure fully restored.

"Adrien, I need to speak with you," she said kindly. He followed her to the seating area at one side of the foyer and settled into the comfortable black leather armchair. Nathalie put her tablet down on the coffee table between them. "Your father determined that it is of utmost importance to have the best photographer possible for this new line, but the arrangement is not without drawbacks. He wanted me to convey his apologies for wreaking havoc on your schedule this week."

"Thanks, Nathalie. It's fine. I know these new designs are really important to Dad."

"I appreciate your flexibility. Not many young people can be as… focused and forgiving as you."

"Oh... no problem?" Adrien wasn't sure what to do with the unexpected compliment.

"Due to the unforeseeable obstacles at the Eiffel Tower, we've rescheduled with Monsieur Thomas. He's… _particular_ about large crowds and doesn't deal well with heavy traffic or delays. The quality of his work means your father is willing to allow him some… latitude."

"Particular. Huh. Okay." Adrien could think of a few other adjectives, after the way the man had screamed at Nathalie over the phone.

"We'll be shooting tomorrow instead, after your fencing lesson. This evening, I know of no other plans involving you, so your time is your own." Adrien could hardly believe his ears. Nathalie smiled. "Well, now that your evening has freed up, what do you want to do? You're a Jagged Stone fan, aren't you?"

"Yeah, I am. Why?"

"Well, I'm thinking that if you leave now… you could probably arrive in time to get good seats."

Adrien laughed, delighted. "You're the best, Nathalie. It's general admission, but your point is taken. Are you sure it's all right if I go?"

Nathalie nodded. "Schedule is double- and triple-checked. Shall I ask your bodyguard to get the car?"

"Absolutely!" Adrien jumped up from the armchair and walked to the center of the foyer, pulling out his phone.

"Nino!" he shouted when the other picked up.

"Adrien! I was just about to leave for the concert. Too bad you can't go, man, it's gonna be killer." Adrien could hear a door pull shut in the background.

"Don't leave yet, dude. My plans changed; I'm coming to pick you up - right now!" Adrien pushed open the front door and practically skipped down the steps of his father's mansion.

"All right! I'll be on the corner then - see you in a minute." They hung up and Adrien saw a shadow creep over his shoulder as he stood on the last step. He turned to see Nathalie looming over him.

"One more thing, Adrien. You absolutely must stay with your bodyguard at all times. This is a very public venue and you are very recognizable. If anything were to separate you from him… I cannot guarantee that your father would allow a similar outing. Ever. Again." Adrien had never felt intimidated by Nathalie, but he nearly shivered looking up into her steely eyes.

"Yes, Ma'am." he said meekly as his father's car pulled up to admit him. As he settled himself in the seat and buckled, he silently prayed the concert would remain akuma-free.

* * *

 

People from all over Paris were streaming through temporary gates set up between metal barriers at the Eiffel Tower when Marinette and Alya arrived. They joined a queue, which moved quickly, had their bags checked by security, and spilled out into the broad, open space in front of the stage along with hundreds of other fans. The girls grabbed hands, both out of excitement and to prevent losing each other in the massive crowd.

"What do you want to do first? Grab a drink, or go check in backstage?" Alya asked.

Vendors had been placed in a quick-set row of booths off to one side of the stage. There were already queues for food and drink; Marinette could guess that the wait might be a long one. The positive vibes of the crowd infused her own spirit. She looked up at the sky, grinning. Even the possibility of rain couldn't dampen anyone's excitement.

"Do you want to call Nino? We can hang out for a while until the concert starts." she suggested.

"I already texted him. He's not here yet. He said he has a surprise, though."

"Huh. Wonder what that could mean." Marinette didn't dwell on it. They made their way forward, subconsciously drawn to the left side of the stage as Jagged had instructed.

"Soooo… if you don't feel like buying anything…" Marinette drew out the reveal of her secret as she rummaged in her backpack. "I put some snacks in the secret pocket of my pack. Here." She dumped several fresh-baked cookies and small pastries into Alya's waiting hands.

"Score! Girl, you are the best. And so sneaky, too!" Alya grinned as she took a bite of a chocolate chip cookie.

"Why, thank you. You do all right yourself," Marinette complimented as Alya passed her a water bottle from her own bag.

"Let's go check in. I can't wait any more! We can catch up with Nino afterward." Alya suggested.

The girls took off, running and giggling, until they reached the metal barricade at the left side of the stage. A stern-looking man in a black shirt that revealed bulging muscles looked at the photo on Marinette's phone, then nodded. The barrier swung away like magic and they were directed up a set of stairs to the left side of the portable stage, where they could stand in relative obscurity behind thick, black curtains.

The sky was beginning to dim just a little. As Marinette looked up, the lights of the Eiffel Tower came on suddenly, bathing her face in a golden glow. From this angle, it almost felt like they were standing directly under the tower. She pulled on Alya's arm and pointed upward. The other girl glanced up, then gasped. She whipped out her phone to take a picture of the tower, then a selfie of the two of them. Two roadies edged by, carrying cords and equipment. One of them had Jagged's guitar.

"It must be almost time!" Marinette whispered in Alya's ear as they watched the roadie lift the guitar out of its case and tune it up.

"Hey, look who's here!" Alya exclaimed, pointing.

Marinette followed Alya's finger to where Nino stood, front and center against the barricade. He was waving like a madman. Marinette giggled and waved back. She noticed a wall of a man standing behind him, and then realized she recognized the wall - Adrien's bodyguard. The Gorilla blocked the view of at least three people in the row behind him, but no one looked like they were going to complain. Her eyes slid across him, and that was when she noticed a certain blonde head in front of him. Adrien! When Nino pointed to her and Alya, Adrien waved enthusiastically until she waved back.

"I thought Adrien couldn't make it!" she hissed in Alya's ear.

Alya shrugged her shoulders. "I guess his plans changed. Uh, oh, don't look now!"

Marinette watched in horror as a second blonde head of hair squeezed, shoved and pushed her way through the crowd until she reached the front. _Oh, no, not Chloe!_ Marinette thought. She watched the young woman attach herself inextricably to Adrien's arm, a simpering smile on her face when he looked down in alarm, then relaxed.

Marinette groaned. "If anything could ruin this concert…" she muttered.

Alya fixed her with a stern glare. "Oh, no, girl. You did _not_ go to the trouble of getting us backstage and sneaking in awesome cookies to let Chloe mess up _our_ night. Bask in the glow of knowing she hates Jagged's music and she's stuck here for the next two hours - at least - because she pushed all the way to the front and can't get out again. Adrien may be great, but she can't even talk to him while Jagged's playing! Just don't even look her way."

Marinette nodded, then hugged her best friend fiercely. "You are so right. And this evening is so beautiful, and we're having so much _fun_!"

She still couldn't help her eyes sneaking over to Adrien one last time. He was looking directly at her and grinning; her gaze darted away just as Jagged walked on from the right side of the stage. The crowd screamed as one when the man of the hour lifted a hand to wave.

"He's wearing the glasses!" Marinette screamed at Alya, who hollered right back.

Jagged took his guitar from the stand it was propped up on and slung the strap over his shoulder. He leaned into the microphone. "This is a little number," he shouted, "I call _Fire and Ice_!" The crowd screamed wildly again as he struck the first chord.

At that moment, the painful squeal of twisting metal drowned out the screech of Jagged's guitar. A vertical section of metal scaffolding bent dangerously toward the crowd as onlookers gasped. Marinette's hands rose to either side of her face.

"JAGGED STONE!" an amplified voice bellowed from the right side of the stage. "I've come for you! I'm Gatecrasher, and I'm here to ROCK THE HOUSE!"


	5. Thursday Pt. 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ladybug and Chat Noir take on Gatecrasher!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Major co-writing props to my husband, a very punny guy, who swooped in and saved the day here. All the good puns you like are his, all the bad puns you hate are mine.

Marinette and Alya watched, rooted to the spot. A tall man, face obscured by a black mask over his eyes and a beard covering his cheeks, stepped forward from the opposite edge of the stage. His costume was of multicolored swirls that almost hurt to look at. A colorful array of lanyards with laminated passes was draped over his neck. He spoke into a curiously thin microphone as he faced Jagged Stone.

"People of Paris," he shouted, feedback whining through the speakers. The crowd winced and several people covered their ears. "People of Paris!" he said again, "This little man has sung his little showtunes for the last time." He pointed to Jagged with a gloved-tipped finger.

Jagged was outraged. "Showtunes!? Showtunes!? Why, I've never been so insulted. Security! Get this man off my stage."

The burly black-shirted bouncer that had let the girls backstage now shoved past them and walked purposefully toward Gatecrasher. Marinette didn't like the one-sided smile on Gatecrasher's face as the bouncer came to the center of the stage.

"Alya, I think we better get out of here," she muttered, grabbing the other girl's hand.

"I need this for the Ladyblog," Alya whispered back, already filming with her phone.

She pulled her hand free and kneeled down to get a better angle. As she did so, Gatecrasher lifted two lanyards off of his neck and snapped them both forward, the laminated passes pinched between his fingers. They whipped out and in the blink of an eye, the security guard was trussed up in a spiral of green cord, hands trapped at his sides. He lost his balance and fell over on the stage. The other lanyard fastened itself to a metal pole stabilizing the curtains Alya and Marinette stood beside. Marinette grabbed Alya from behind and threw them both backward off the side of the stage as the pole - and pounds and pounds of suffocating black velvet - crashed down right where they had been standing.

"Oof!" Alya whooshed as they landed hard on the pavement beside the stage. "Oh my gosh, girl, did I crush you?" She jumped off of Marinette and crouched over her slightly squished friend.

"No - I'm fine -" Marinette wheezed as she gathered herself and sat up. She winced and rubbed her back where she'd slammed it against the unforgiving cement. "Alya, I respect you as a journalist, but we've got to go! You can get your shots out further away - they're up on stage, after all!" Brooking no argument, she gripped Alya's arm and they rushed to the metal barricade, only to be surprised by the sea of people stampeding back and forth through the Champ de Mars in front of the Eiffel Tower.

Marinette yanked the rounded edge of the barricade back and pushed a resisting Alya through the opening. "Go! I'm right behind you!" she called as her friend melted into the crowd. When she was sure Alya wouldn't be able to come back for her, Marinette ran back to the deep shadows below the side of the stage.

A length of heavy black curtain had pooled there, so she wrapped herself up in it like a blanket, covering her head and feet as well. "Tikki, spots on!" she called out inside her dark cocoon. Transformed, Ladybug fought her way out of the thick fabric. "It's hot in there," she said, panting for breath.

Ladybug peeked over the side edge of the stage, her bluebell irises scoping out Gatecrasher's position. With those long-distance lanyards, she needed the element of surprise. She took off for the backside of the stage.

* * *

 

Nino, Adrien, and Chloe stared upward at the costumed villain facing off against an irate Jagged. Adrien looked up to see the stern Gorilla looming, his lips pinched tight.

"Oh, no, I am so screwed," Adrien muttered.

He looked to the left and right, trying to plan a way to escape his bodyguard. As luck would have it, Gatecrasher provided an easy exit - with some assistance from Chloe.

"Come on already!" the blonde harpy shrilled with a stamp of her toe. "I didn't fight through massive crowds of peons to watch you throw a temper tantrum! Were you not hugged enough as a child? Get therapy on your own time!" Arms crossed, she glared up defiantly at the loudmouthed giant, whose terrifying stare did nothing to quell her indignance.

"Chloe!" hissed Nino, "What are you doing?" The aspiring DJ smacked his forehead as Gatecrasher turned to the trio, thin ropes dangling from either fist. "I knew she was psycho, but I didn't think she was suicidal," he whispered at Adrien, wide brown eyes taking in the villain on the stage.

"Unimpressed, huh?" he shouted down at Chloe.The resultant feedback from his amplified voice set Adrien's teeth on edge. The three teens clapped their hands over their offended ears. Jagged quirked an eyebrow and tapped his toe, unenthused about relinquishing the spotlight. "I guess I'll have to try a little harder!"

Gatecrasher wound up as though to throw a baseball and pitched a line forward. It hooked onto the framework above and pulled stage rigging down right over the heads of the three teens and the Gorilla. Adrien dove over the metal barricade as the Gorilla made a grab for all three teens to pull them back out of harm's way. The rigging crashed down while Adrien rolled into the darkness under the stage.

"Plagg, claws out!" he shouted, sure no one could see him.

He saw the Gorilla scan the wreckage to look for him, and not finding him, the two remaining teens were hustled away. Adrien knew his loyal bodyguard would be back as soon as he could fight through the panicked crowd. Crouched low, he bounded to the back of the portable stage before he could be discovered.

Chat Noir rolled out between two support pillars just in time to catch Ladybug rounding the back of the stage. "Wow, access backstage! You must be a fan," he smirked, leaning on his staff. She stopped short.

"Chat Noir! You got here fast. Good," she said, pleased. "You ready for a sneak attack?"

"Of course," he assured her.

"We need to keep Gatecrasher off balance long enough to discover where his akuma is. He's fast and accurate with those lanyards; keep your distance, okay?" Ladybug clutched her yo-yo in her right palm.

"Oh, I'm sure we can _harmonize_ our attacks. Where will you be?" asked Chat Noir.

"Right behind him. Maybe I can give him a taste of his own medicine." They parted, Ladybug headed to the right side of the stage and Chat Noir straight up.

He took a flying leap to the top of the secure scaffolding where the stage lights were positioned. Hopping lightly from one bar to another, he moved forward until he was standing on a platform over Gatecrasher and Jagged.

"Such a lovely evening," he called down to the two men. "I couldn't help taking a little _cat-walk_."

Gatecrasher's eyes snapped up and he squinted, trying to pick Chat Noir out from between the bright stage lights. In an instant, another lanyard lashed out. It hooked itself along the catwalk's railing, popping off stage lights and causing sparks as Gatecrasher tugged it along. Chat Noir cartwheeled away along the rail. He gripped it tightly at the top of a handstand, then swung his legs down toward Gatecrasher's snarling face. Another coil of cord checked him and he veered left in midair, landing in a crouch at the back of the stage.

"Sorry, Gatecrasher, you can't collar this kitty. I won't wear a leash for just anyone." As if on cue, Ladybug's red yo-yo flashed out and wound around Gatecrasher. She wrenched the line, tightening her hold. Chat Noir stepped forward between Jagged and Gatecrasher as the man chuckled.

"I'm the ultimate fan, Stone," Gatecrasher touched another clear plastic rectangle from the pack around his neck. "I've got an all-access pass to go anywhere and do anything I want!" He melted through Ladybug's unbreakable line, right in front of Chat Noir's disbelieving eyes. Gatecrasher stalked menacingly forward, staring at Jagged.

"I hate to _metal_ in your personal affairs, but what _do_ you want?" Chat Noir backed up, whirling his extended staff to protect himself and Jagged from attack. Ladybug appeared next to him, landing neatly with her yo-yo whirling.

"Wasn't expecting that," she pitched her voice low, for his ears only. "We'll have to come up with Plan B."

"To expose Jagged for the fraud he is!" shouted Gatecrasher, rising to his full height. "A free concert for the fans? He's just giving retailers and restauranteurs a captive audience to ply their wares!"

"He's not wrong," shrugged Jagged.

"And when fans want to know the real Jagged? Turned away! _Humiliated_!" with a mighty yell, Gatecrasher flung out a whip of cord.

Ladybug's yo-yo flicked out and biffed the end of the extended lanyard, dissipating its forward motion. Limp, it dropped to the stage. Gatecrasher sent more loops forward in a furious barrage. Ladybug and Chat Noir blocked the attacks.

"Martin!" the tiny voice of a young woman in the crowd reached them. Chat Noir turned to see a curly-haired brunette in a flowing skirt calling from the ground, hands cupped around her mouth, layers of thin bangles clinking at her wrists. "Martin, please stop this! It isn't worth it!"

Gatecrasher laughed derisively at the young woman. "There's no Martin here! Only Gatecrasher. Rraugh!" He threw a hand out and cords tangled themselves around a four-meter (twelve-foot) tall stack of amplifiers. It toppled over the edge of the stage where the woman was standing.

"Chat Noir! Go!" shrieked Ladybug as the woman screamed.

Chat Noir dove off the edge of the stage even as he saw Ladybug's yo-yo out of the corner of his eye, looping around the black tower and pulling taut. He tackled the woman and rolled, protecting her as best he could with his own body. Ladybug's intervention bought them a split second, but it wasn't enough. As the heavy amp stack fell onto them, Chat Noir stretched a gloved hand above their heads.

"Cataclysm!" he shouted, drawing in his kwami's power just in time. The heavy black boxes disintegrated as they came in contact with his hand, showering him and the curly-haired woman with dark ash. Chat Noir sat up and shook his head back and forth, scattering blackened particles in all directions. He checked the woman over for injury as she cried.

"Do you know him?" he asked. The woman sat up and nodded.

"That's my boyfriend, Martin. W-we were told Jagged might sign autographs at the right side of the stage. That's his hobby - collecting autographs. W-when we got there, they told us we had to leave. Martin was so angry. The next thing I knew, he was G-gatecrasher!" More tears poured down and Chat Noir awkwardly patted her shoulder.

"Autographs, huh? I didn't notice him carrying a pen."

"Oh, it's that little microphone - it's called a Quote Pen. You push a button to record a few seconds of audio. It - it's kind of for kids, but Martin likes it, you know?"

Chat Noir nodded. "You keep moving back to safety. Don't worry about Martin; Ladybug and I have this all under wraps." He helped the young woman to stand and sent her off in the direction of several security guards. Chat Noir crouched in front of the stage and sprang upward to rejoin his partner. Gatecrasher was screaming at Jagged through his microphone for the whole of Paris to hear.

"- and your last album, it was so overproduced! It's like you've never even heard of real drums! Anyone can tell they were digitized -"

"Wow, Gatecrasher's on a rock and roll. Can we get a muzzle for this loudmouth? He's hurting all four of my ears."

"Pay attention!" Ladybug answered, but her tone wasn't sharp.

"The akuma's in the microphone, by the way," added Chat Noir conversationally, pointing out where it was tucked into a pocket on Gatecrasher's chest. Suddenly, Gatecrasher stopped moving and a purple neon ring of light surrounded his face, taking the shape of a moth.

"Hawkmoth!" gasped Ladybug.

"Uh, oh, time to stop batting our toys around," agreed Chat Noir.

Gatecrasher's face melted into an evil grin as he cast lanyards out in all directions over their heads. At first, Chat Noir feared he meant to pull the stage down on top of them all, but instead he used the tension to snap upward, flying high into the air. The cords retracted behind him like colorful elastic tails.

"Ladybuuuuuug!" a voice screamed. The duo whirled to find Jagged, arms and legs constrained by yellow cord, pulled up and away by Gatecrasher's tether.


	6. Thursday Pt 4 and Friday Pt 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ladybug and Chat Noir save Jagged Stone from Gatecrasher. Marinette deals with school trouble.

Chat Noir leapt high and made a grab for Jagged as he sailed away over their heads, but came up empty. "Even the losers get lucky sometimes," he quoted with a shrug.

Gatecrasher came to rest on a steel bar of the Eiffel Tower, dangling Jagged off the edge far above their heads with one outstretched arm.

"Time to turn the tables," Ladybug shouted, swinging her yo-yo straight up. "Lucky charm!" The yo-yo's magic light spun out in a shower of sparkles and a folded plastic square with a rip cord dropped into her open palms.

"That was dead close to being a music pun," Chat Noir noted.

Ladybug considered the square bundle for a moment, and then her bluebell eyes lit up.

"Go get him, Chat Noir!" directed Ladybug, pointing at Jagged.

"Chasing string _is_ one of my talents," asserted Chat Noir, "You could even call it my _forte_." He leapt to the top of the catwalk, then used his baton to vault up one leg of the Eiffel Tower. He ran forward on all fours, quickly closing the distance between Jagged and himself.

Gatecrasher wore a triumphant smile as Chat Noir climbed closer. "You want him? You got him," he grated. He let go of the plastic-coated card in his hand.

"But I've got a gig in New York next weeeeeeek!" screamed Jagged as he fell.

Chat Noir back-flipped off the steel beam to follow, focusing simultaneously on the falling man and the girl below. He grabbed the tail end of the yellow nylon cord and wound it around one paw. He heard, rather than saw, Ladybug's yo-yo whiz by and sighed in relief. With his free hand, he looped his baton up and over the makeshift zip-line Ladybug had created using a beam of the Eiffel Tower and gripped it tight with both claws. Chat Noir and Jagged hurtled forward, their speed increasing as they zoomed on a diagonal toward the ground.

"Ladybug! Pull the cord!" he shouted.

She yanked the ripcord and a red-and-black-spotted inflatable emergency raft popped out just as Jagged and Chat Noir came down at a velocity fast enough to smash them into the pavement. Jagged hit the raft first and harmlessly bounced off, Chat Noir colliding with it just behind him.

"Watch the jacket!" complained Jagged, unfazed by the adventure.

Ladybug giggled as she unlooped his fetters. Chat Noir rolled forward out of the squishy plastic with as much grace as a cat could manage under the circumstances, making sure he landed on his feet. He stood next to Ladybug.

"I guess it's time for the finale," snarled the voice of Gatecrasher behind them. They spun to face the tall, bearded man, lowering himself slowly with an elastic line. "When your idols turn out to be jerks, it can feel like your whole world is crashing down." He turned toward the Eiffel Tower and cast impossibly long lines up and up the side.

Chat Noir grimaced in dismay. "Is he going to…"

"Not if I can help it," answered Ladybug.

They ran forward as Gatecrasher began to pull the lines with all his strength. The tension from his magical cords caused a deep, metallic groan to issue from the Tower. The two superheroes watched as metal plates buckled and steel beams snapped with deadly force. Slowly, inevitably, the Eiffel Tower crumpled over toward the Champ de Mars, still dotted with a curious crowd.

"We've got to stop this!" shouted Ladybug. Still holding the inflated raft, she flipped forward in an acrobatic leap and threw it over her head at Gatecrasher. The raft enveloped his head and shoulders, blocking his view and tangling his cords.

"Wha- hey!" he spluttered.

Chat Noir tumbled forward, easily slipping behind the villain in his momentary confusion. "You know your problem, Gatecrasher?" he asked as he reached one claw over the taller man's shoulder and pick-pocketed the autograph pen, "Your reach exceeds your grasp. Yo, LB!"

He threw the pen and watched it sail like an arrow toward Ladybug. She caught it midair and snapped it in half with one hand. A purple butterfly flittered out of one broken end.

"Time to de-evilize!" she cried triumphantly. She cleansed the akuma with her yo-yo and it flew off into the sky. "Bye-bye, little butterfly," she waved.

Chat Noir lifted the emergency raft off of a dazed-looking Gatecrasher and dragged it over to Ladybug.

"Ready, Milady?" he asked with a wink.

She smiled and took one end. They tossed the lucky charm high in the air, the threatening bulk of the nearly uprooted Eiffel Tower looming precariously over them.

"Miraculous Ladybug!" she called and the raft disappeared in a sparkling stream of ladybugs that swept over the whole of the Eiffel Tower and Champ de Mars. The duo looked down at Martin, awash in a purple cloud as his akumatized costume dissipated.

"What is going on?" he asked faintly, sitting back with his knees drawn up.

Ladybug picked up his restored pen and handed it to him. "Not to worry," she reassured him. "Jagged's right here, ready to sign an autograph."

The pop star looked over from where he'd been dusting off his jacket and pants and paused. "I am?" Ladybug drew in one eyebrow and that was all it took. "Oh! Yes, right you are. Ah, Martin, it is?" Jagged took the pen from the still-stunned man and peered around. "Paper…?"

"I've got it!" called a new voice.

The brunette in the flowing skirt ran up, carrying an autograph book. She handed it to Jagged and turned to lean over Martin, one hand on his shoulder. Her bracelets chimed musically as she helped him to his feet. Jagged handed back the spiral notebook, his famous scrawl visible across one whole page.

"Well, if you'll excuse me, I have a concert underway," he said with a slick bow, then strode to the stage without a backward glance, heels clicking on the cement.

"I swear, nothing fazes that guy, no matter how _off-beat_ ," murmured Chat Noir.

"I imagine he's seen a lot, working in the music business," Ladybug mused.

"Not to mention having to _claw_ his way to the top," Chat Noir put in.

Ladybug groaned as his miraculous beeped. "Chat Noir, you must collect books on puns or something."

"Nope, I make them all from _scratch_ ," he said with glee.

Ladybug's bright blue eyes threatened to pop out of her head and she smacked her own forehead, dragging her gloved hand down over her face. To avoid setting him up again, she turned back to Martin.

"If you're alright, sir, it's time to go back to the Champ de Mars," she entreated. "Maybe next time, just enjoy the show. Sometimes it's okay to focus on the people you love, rather than the ultimate fan experience."

"Yeah, idolizing someone only gets you into _treble_ ," Chat Noir agreed.

Martin smiled down at his girlfriend and nodded. She leaned against his arm and took his hand, a brilliant, sweet smile lighting up her face as they walked back to the park grounds together.

Chat Noir turned back to Ladybug, smirking. "Of course, you're the exception to the rule, Bugaboo," he amended, grabbing her hand and planting a kiss on her fingers before she could yank it back. His miraculous beeped again. "Too bad," he lamented, looking down at his ring, "I'd love to wander over to the merch table with you, but I can't stay. Maybe next time!"

He gripped his baton near its top and pole-vaulted away. _Always leave them wanting more, right?_ he thought to himself. He didn't go far, though. Thanking his luck that his costume allowed him to blend in with the deepening shadows, Chat Noir reversed course when he saw Ladybug soar away, a red blur illuminated by the lights of the Eiffel Tower. Checking all around to be sure he was unseen, he snuck back under the stage just ahead of the drove of roadies and stage crew that had scattered under Gatecrasher's attack.

"Plagg, claws in," he whispered.

Adrien crouch-walked forward as a heavy-browed face attached to a mountain of muscle appeared at the front of the stage, bending low to peer into the small space.

"It is alright to come out now?" he called, trying to look at least a little frightened.

The Gorilla nodded, once. Adrien came out from under the stage, blinking as though the stage lights were too much for his eyes.

"Do you have to tell my dad about this?" Adrien kept his tone low, for their ears only.

The Gorilla shook his head, once. Ah, a mutual understanding. Adrien breathed a sigh of relief. He smiled as Nino, Alya, and Chloe came running up.

"Hey guys! Still staying for the concert? I think it's back on!" he stated, pointing to the brightly-lit stage where a roadie was once again tuning Jagged's guitar.

"Adrikins! I was sooo worried about you!" Chloe bustled forward, pushing past the other two teens to clamp onto Adrien in a bone-crushing hug.

He grimaced slightly, but tried to hide it. "Well, I'm fine," he said and managed to extract his torso, yielding his arm as a peace offering.

Chloe clung on with a sunny smile as he glanced around at their little crew. "Wait a minute. Where's Marinette? Wasn't she with you, Alya?"

"We got separated in the crowd!" said Alya, concern threading through her voice. "I've been calling her, but no answer yet. There weren't any injuries reported as far as I know, but we were over on the side there," she pointed to the spot where she and the other girl had entered past the metal barricade, "and I can't see well enough from the fence to check if she's like, wedged in somewhere."

Adrien's brows drew together. "We should go over and check again," he said, starting toward the left side of the stage. He stopped when he heard a familiar voice.

"Hey guys! Is everyone okay?" Marinette's wide-open blue eyes were the first thing Adrien saw as she walked up to join them.

"Marinette! Girl, where have you been? Can you not answer your phone in a crisis?" Alya leaned forward into her best friend's face, but the group could tell she wasn't really angry.

Marinette grinned sheepishly. "Sorry, Alya. I was with a friend over there…" Marinette gestured vaguely away from the stage, out on the Champ de Mars.

"Who, Juleka? I thought I heard her say she was going to try to make it tonight." Nino scrolled through his text messages and held up his phone as confirmation. "Yeah, she was here, but she went home when Gatecrasher showed up to ruin the party."

"No, someone else! We got caught up in the crowd."

"Someone else? Who else do you even know?" Chloe's snide remark shot out from behind her makeup compact as she checked her already-perfect hair. Adrien frowned down at her.

"Hey, I have friends outside of school." Marinette crossed her arms over her chest and stared hard at Chloe, who didn't look away from her mirror.

"Oh yeah, like who?" Adrien asked, lightly teasing.

He regretted asking as soon as the words were out of his mouth. Why would he ask that if she didn't want to tell? Marinette was getting defensive, he could see it. He smiled to show the query had been an off-hand remark.

"Wouldn't you like to know," she teased back, after a beat. "If you're through with my interrogation, I think Jagged's back!" she pointed over the shoulders of her friends as a swell of sound came from the reassembled crowd. They turned just in time to see Jagged re-take the stage and wave to his fans.

"You want to go back over there?" Adrien heard Alya yell at Marinette, pointing to the backstage area.

"No, I think the view's better right here!" she shouted in reply.

Adrien grinned when he saw Nino sneak a hand back to hold Alya's. _Very smooth, dude_ , he thought to himself. He glanced down at Chloe, still hanging on with the ferocity of a leech, and rolled his eyes. Oh, well. Small sacrifice for a live Jagged Stone concert. He looked upward, where a few stars were beginning to peek out from between broken clouds. He saw Marinette doing the same thing in his peripheral vision, but when he glanced at her, she was quickly focused on the stage in front of them. He couldn't help but smile again. He'd take Ladybug's advice: enjoy the experience with the people he cared about.

* * *

 

For once, Marinette woke up early, and with a smile on her face. "Tikki, I have a good feeling about today," she greeted the yawning kwami on the pillow beside her.

She grabbed her phone and checked the time. "If I hurry, I can get to the library before class and read up on _Le Pont Mirabeau_! I need to be ready for my study date with Adrien tomorrow. A+ poetry analysis, here I come."

She descended the white steps from her bed with an extra spring in her step. The concert last night had been stellar, she reminisced dreamily as she brushed her hair and secured it into two pigtails at the nape of her neck. At one point, the clouds had broken open and moonlight had shot down over their heads. She'd been looking at Adrien out of the corner of her eye, taking in his easy smile, his perfect nose. His green eyes had been almost luminescent in the light of the full moon.

When the clouds had rolled back in and the darkness settled around her like a cloak, she'd closed her eyes and willed him to reach over and take her hand. He hadn't, of course, but the wish itself had felt pretty satisfactory. Marinette shook herself, realizing she was killing the time she wanted to spend in the library. She dressed and grabbed her bag and purse, Tikki settling calmly inside the small, pink interior.

"Hi Maman, I'm off to battle!" she chirped as she came down the stairs to the kitchen.

"Good morning! My, you've got some energy today!" Sabine turned away from the kitchen counter to regard her daughter over her cup of coffee. Her father opened the door behind his daughter, depositing a plate of fresh baked goods on the kitchen table.

"Oh, Marinette!" he said, "I wasn't expecting to see you up this early."

"Morning, Papa. I want to get to the library early for some extra study," Marinette explained as she kissed her mother on the cheek. She snagged a croissant off the plate piled high with pastries. "Mmmm!" she exclaimed, her eyes lighting up as she bit into the flaky, buttery bread.

"Well, vanquish those grades, my lovely knight in pink armor," Tom said with a grin under his bushy moustache.

Marinette giggle and kissed him, too. She took the back stairs two at a time and spilled forward through the door onto the sidewalk next to the bakery. Three steps into her journey, loud thunder boomed and she was suddenly drenched in a warm spring rain.

"Whoa, where the heck did this come from?!" she protested aloud, and ran back to her home.

Yanking open the door, she reached into the deep vase situated next to it and pulled out an umbrella, snapping it open under the eaves.

Marinette managed to reach the school without further soaking, which she considered a success, given her lifetime track record with puddles. She shook off her umbrella outside the doors and squeaked across the courtyard in wet shoes, the sound echoing around the empty space. Wow, she really _was_ early! Marinette pulled open the door to the locker room, glancing back and forth to see if anyone was about. Even though the lights were on, the large room looked dim and gray. The windows revealed near-blackness outside as rain poured down harder and harder over all of Paris.

"This place is almost creepy when it's empty," she confided to Tikki when her small companion peeked out of her open purse.

Tikki nodded agreement, her round eyes catching the glow when a bolt of lightning flashed across the sky, perfectly framed in the locker room windows. A terrifying crash of thunder followed right after that made Marinette jump and Tikki squeak with alarm. She zoomed up to curl into the curve of Marinette's neck, shivering.

"Oh, Tikki!" Marinette chuckled as she took the small red kwami into her hands. "It's okay. We've faced a lot more danger than a silly thunderstorm!"

"I know, Marinette. It's still such a loud noise, though!" protested Tikki.

"Here, snuggle up," Marinette suggested, opening her jacket. Tikki pushed herself right up to Marinette's ribs, a tiny, comfortable lump unnoticeable from the outside. With the books for her afternoon classes safely stowed in her locker, Marinette ascended the green staircase by the locker room to the library.

"Hello?" she ventured, pushing open the mahogany doors and letting herself in. No answer. "Um, I just need to look up some books in the system…" she raised her voice a little, but still there was no answer.

The expansive library was better lit than the locker room, but it still felt dim and a little cold. Marinette crossed over to the bank of catalog computers and slid onto a plastic chair, wiggling the mouse with her right hand to wake up the screen. She took Ms. Bustier's handout from her backpack and shook it open one-handed. Flipping to the back page, she saw Ms. Bustier's suggested bibliography for the paper - about ten books either on Guillaume Apollinaire specifically, or his era of poetry in general.

She did a quick keyword search for her poet. Exactly two books from the list came up. _I didn't think there would be so few here!_ she thought, dismayed. She clicked the book entries and further discovered that one had already been checked out by Max earlier in the week. _Oh, no._

Disappointed, Marinette wrote down the call letters for the one book she had found. She stood to head into the stacks and find it, but as she did so, the lights flickered. She glanced up at the high ceiling just in time to watch every light black out. The computers all died at the same moment, leaving the room in total darkness.


	7. Friday Pt 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette fights the nefarious forces of a stodgy librarian, a pop quiz, and a lost hamster! Oh, well, at least it's Friday...

"Oh my gosh," Marinette said aloud into the pitch-black library, feeling her way back to her chair.

She fumbled around for her phone. Every sound she made seemed to have an echo she'd never noticed before, against a low backdrop of rumbling rain slamming the roof. She pressed the side button to wake up her phone, squinting at its unexpected brightness.

"Flashlight app, on," she muttered and flipped the phone around so she could see the floor.

Marinette stood again and followed the broad, circular pool of light over to the first bank of shelves. She checked the label affixed to the outer end of the closest shelf, but it was the wrong section.

"Tikki, this is going to take _forever_ ," she complained as she walked to the next shelf, and then the next, and then the next.

The library was next to impossible to navigate in the dark. She'd always thought of herself as a savvy school library patron, but apparently she had never once ventured into the dark, dank corner that housed French poetry. Finally, she crossed over from middle grade fiction into classic literature. The numbers nearly matched, which was promising.

Marinette selected a row and walked down it in the dark, her flashlight beam focused on the row of books to her left as she compared the call numbers to her hand-written note. Suddenly, a metallic clunk rang out at the same instant that her toe was shot through with pain. Already in motion, Marinette couldn't stop herself as she tripped and fell face-first over a library stool, invisible in the inky black.

"Oww!" she complained loudly as her knee, elbow, and chin made contact with the floor. Her phone bounced out of her hand and skittered away. "Oh, great," she groaned.

She rolled onto her back and gripped her knee, squeezing back tears of pain.

"Marinette! Are you okay?" Tikki asked. Marinette couldn't see the little kwami, but she sounded unharmed.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm okay," Marinette allowed, rubbing her elbow fiercely where it throbbed.

She sat up and did the same with her chin, hoping she wouldn't bruise. She could see an oblong streak of light that shot out from beneath the shelf beside her: her phone. She kneeled down to try and retrieve it, shoulders and cheek pressed to the floor, arm stretched out underneath the heavy shelf. She could just barely scrape it with the tips of her fingers.

"Tikki, do you think you could…" she pushed her arm in further, but it was no use. Then she saw Tikki's small silhouette scrambling under the shelf. She felt the phone pushed forward into her grasp. "Got it! Thanks, Tikki!" she gripped it tightly and sat up on her aching knees.

Determined, she lifted the flashlight once more and aimed it at the bottom row right next to where she was seated. Bingo! The call numbers matched. She scanned left to right and discovered the book she needed. As her fingertips touched the spine, the lights in the library popped back on. The hum of various electronics and computers restarting filled the air.

"You have got to be kidding me!" Marinette griped.

She heard faint laughter, then the sound of the library doors swinging inward. Several students walked in, joking and talking as they found seats at one of the small tables in the library's main area. After turning off the flashlight on her phone, she checked the time. Ten minutes to class! This morning had not turned out at all the way she wanted.

"Time to hide, Tikki," she said softly and the little kwami tucked herself away again in Marinette's jacket. "I'm going to have to go to the public library if I want more of these books," Marinette sighed. She went back to the catalog computer, gathered her things, and used the automatic checkout table to get her book.

"Marinette Dupain-Cheng," a low, icy voice identified her and she whirled, surprised.

"Mrs. Daviau!" she gasped. Where had she come from? Had she been in the library the whole time?

The diminutive librarian strode forward, drab skirt swishing like a limp fish, hands behind her back. She looked up into Marinette's face, pressing in too close to her. Marinette could smell coffee on her breath. She frowned, taking in the small woman's displeased expression.

"You still owe an overdue fine for _The History of French Fashion, 1800-1850_. I believe it totals two euros and 35 cents. Will you be paying now?"

Marinette backed up slowly, but her progress was checked as she came into contact with a stray chair and nearly fell over backward. "I - um - I - don't have it on me right now, but I'm coming in to study tomorrow, and I'll bring it then!"

She clutched the Guillaume Apollinaire book to her chest, suddenly fearful that Mrs. Daviau would perversely revoke her permission to borrow it. The librarian narrowed her penetrating eyes behind thick lenses.

"See that you do. Don't forget." She stared Marinette down as the young woman nodded uncertainly, then scrambled out the doors of the library and down the stairs as the warning bell rang for class.

"Whew!" Marinette sighed to herself, plopping down on a bench outside her classroom. "I don't think she heard us, Tikki."

She looked at the prize in her hands. The book seemed promising, at least. She couldn't write a report with only two sources, but there was always the internet to fill in - and a trip on the bus after school would take her to the nearest public library, where she could surely add to the pile of information. Equilibrium restored, she tucked the library book away in her backpack and entered the science classroom. She sat down next to her best friend, who grinned a welcome.

"Last night...?" Alya asked, her palms placed flat on the desk in front of her as though to push down her own excitement.

"Totally awesome!" Marinette agreed, a big smile lighting up her face.

"I saw you sneaking a peek at you-know-who," Alya leaned forward so she could whisper under cover of the other conversations in the room. "Girl, when are you going to move in on him? Let him know how you feel!"

Marinette shook her head back and forth in quick motions. "No way! Although, last night would have been just about perfect…" she trailed off, remembering Adrien's glowing green eyes under the moon.

"Girl, you have got it sooo bad. Down, Tiger!" The two of them giggled as Ms. Mendeleiev entered the classroom, a thin blue folder tucked under one arm. The room quickly quieted.

"Pop quiz," announced Ms. Mendeleiev, a satisfied smile on her face as the students groaned. "You have fifteen minutes."

Marinette and Alya exchanged glances of dismay.

"I haven't studied!" Marinette whispered.

"Whole point of a pop quiz, girl!" the auburn-haired girl rolled her eyes as her copy of the test paper was plunked down on the desk in front of her.

"No talking," Ms. Mendeleiev said sharply, eyeing Alya.

Alya bit her lips and focused on her paper. Marinette looked down at her own, a feeling of dread spreading through her extremities. Nerves made the words look like gibberish as she frantically scanned the page. Pop quizzes never went well for her. She skipped the first three questions, and started on the fourth - she was confident she had the answer.

Ms. Mendeleiev's egg timer brought the fifteen minutes to an abrupt close. Marinette looked over the ten questions one last time. She wasn't sure about all the answers, but she'd at least put something in for each of them. The students passed their test sheets forward and Ms. Mendeleiev tapped the stack against the top of her desk, straightening the edges.

"You'll have your results back tomorrow. Now turn to page 157 for the start of Chapter 8, please. Rose, if you pass that note, you'll regret it." Ms. Mendeleiev turned her eagle eye to the chalk board and started the day's lesson.

By the end of the school day, Marinette's spirits were bowed but unbroken. First the disappointing library visit, then a pop quiz, then a stain on her shirt at lunch, and finally incomplete homework for history class - she'd somehow missed the entire back page of the assignment. Ms. Bustier was allowing her extra time to complete it, though. And she was positive it was the best she'd ever done on a quiz for science class. _And_ Adrien had totally talked to her on the stairs earlier. Marinette and Alya exchanged the books in their lockers and got ready to leave.

"So you're off to the library after this?" Her bespectacled friend confirmed.

"Yeah, I'm waaay behind on this report. I need more sources to study up tonight." Marinette pinched her lips together in a little frown, but relaxed as she looked down at her handout. "I'm so glad Ms. Bustier put together bib suggestions for us. I really think I can do this."

"Good luck! I know you can. I'd come with you, but I have some Ladyblogging to take care of." With a smile and a wink, Alya slammed her locker closed. The two friends exited the school, hugged, and took off in opposite directions.

* * *

 

The afternoon was as dark as the morning had been, with threatening clouds hanging low over Paris. Marinette kept her black umbrella in one hand, just in case. She exited the bus at the stop outside the park near her home. One more book had been available in the nearby public library branch. A total of three sources to start her report wasn't great, but it was acceptable. Maybe she could call Max this weekend and ask if he was done with the one he'd checked out?

As she walked across the park toward home, a tiny sniffle caught her attention. She noticed a little girl sitting on a bench, head held in her tiny hands. Marinette's heart sank. She walked up and knelt by the little brunette who wore a white blouse and pink skirt. Blue galoshes swung below her knees, her legs too short to reach the ground.

"What's the matter?" asked Marinette. The girl looked up, eyes pink and puffy and tears streaming down both cheeks. One side of her face was smudged with garden soil.

"I w-wanted to take my ha-hamster for a walk, but I _lost_ him!" she sobbed, fresh tears making tracks in the dirt on her face.

"Your hamster? A walk?" Marinette's confused mind imagined a tiny hamster collar and leash, then decided that was too ridiculous.

"I p-put her in a p-plastic ball that rolls around to keep her safe, but then she rolled down the hill and I couldn't catch up to her, and she went across the street, and she's _g-gone_!" A fresh burst of sobs caused Marinette to frantically pat the girl's arm while she looked for a tissue in her purse.

"There, there!" she said, trying to calm the flow of tears. "I'm sure she's fine in her bubble. We just have to find her!"

"You'll help me?" the girl asked, then sat up straight. "Wait. Are you a stranger?"

"Who me?" Marinette laughed. "Well, I guess I am. What should you do when you meet a stranger?"

"Tell my mommy," the girl replied promptly with a decisive nod.

"That's right. Do you want to call your mommy now?"

The girl teared up again. "She'll be mad I lost my hamster!"

"I'm sorry to say, you'll probably have to tell her anyway," Marinette said in gentle tones. "What's your name?"

"Elodie," the girl replied, sniffling.

"Well, Elodie, I'll tell you a secret," she said to the girl with a smile. "Sometimes I see Ladybug fly over this park when I walk home!"

The girl's face lit up, her eyes shining with excitement despite the large, round tears hanging from her lashes. "Ladybug? Really?"

Marinette nodded. A few fat drops of rain splashed down on the bench beside them as a crack of thunder rumbled overhead.

"I sure do. You have to go home now; it's going to pour in a few minutes. I'll watch for Ladybug and see if she can help find your pet. Here's my name and number." Marinette scribbled her information on a scrap of paper from her purse. "Get your mom to call me in oh, about an hour or two. I bet Ladybug will find your pet by then!" _At least, I hope so_ , Marinette thought to herself.

The girl gripped the paper in her little pink fist as though her life depended on it. She ran off in the direction of a row of imposing townhomes on the park's edge. Moments after she was out of sight, the sky opened up over Marinette, drenching her in sheets of water. She looked around, saw no one else left in the park and took shelter under a tree with low branches.

"Tikki, did you catch all that?" she asked the little red kwami when she was sure of their solitude. She opened her umbrella against the tree and set her backpack underneath it, wedging it against the trunk so the umbrella wouldn't blow away.

"Yup!" replied her companion. "Time to transform?"

"Tikki, spots on!" Marinette called out as lightning and another crack of thunder boomed overhead.

When she was transformed, Ladybug ran her hands down her arms, delighted. Thank goodness her costume was waterproof; she felt warm and dry now that she wasn't in her school clothes. The spring rain was cool, but not cold, and so heavy that the sound of it hitting the ground filled her ears with a deafening roar.

"It's black as night out here," she murmured to herself. She unclipped her red yo-yo from her waist and slid one side up, using the screen to illuminate the area around her as she had done in the library that morning. "Now to find Hammy!"

Ladybug started with the path described by Elodie. She followed the walking trail down the only hill in the park - a gentle slope perfect for picnicking under the trees in milder weather. She swung the light of her yo-yo back and forth ahead of her feet, but saw no tracks or trails in the grasses that banked either side of the walk. Following the path on out of the park, she paused when she reached the street. Across it, barely visible in the gloom, was there something nestled into the curb? She dashed across the empty street and stood on the sidewalk facing the park. Her yo-yo's light shone down on a pale plastic bubble captured and held still by a pile of leaves and sticks as collected rainwater swirled around it.

"Gotcha, you little troublemaker," she murmured and leaned over to grab the buoyant sphere.

As her fingers touched it, a rush of water barrelled down the curb and pushed the translucent shell out of her reach. "Hey!" she complained, leaning forward.

She slipped on the wet cement and splashed face-first into the current of water.

"Oh, no!" exclaimed Ladybug, looking up just in time to see the hamster's ball rush down the road and around the corner, bobbing up and down in the water.

Ladybug scrambled to regain her footing and took off down the sidewalk after it. By now, the surface of Paris was saturated with rain and the volume of runoff made ankle-deep streams in the curbs and gutters of the streets. She tried to catch up with the hamster ball, merrily floating along in the current, but couldn't keep it in sight as parked cars, lampposts, mailboxes, and other obstacles blocked her view.

She gave up on lighting her way and slid the two halves of her yo-yo together. She whipped it forward to wrap around a lamppost and flung herself into the air to try to get ahead of the hamster. As she sailed over cars toward the end of the street, she looked on, horrified, as the little ball was sucked toward a gutter drain that flowed under the sidewalk. She snapped her yo-yo free of the lamppost and landed six feet away from the ball, determined to tackle it, but she was too slow.

"Nooo!" she cried as she glimpsed the wet face of the little hamster through the scratched plastic.

She dove for the ball, but again it slipped through her fingers. The hamster teetered on the edge of a gutter waterfall when suddenly the end of a silver baton slammed down between it and the drain, blocking its progress into the abyss. Caught against the baton and the upper end of the gutter, the ball stopped moving, trapped by the angle of the water's pressure.

"Hey, Bugaboo," Chat Noir said, the edges of his toes balanced comfortably over the lip of the storm drain as he held the baton upright against the swirl of water. "I thought ladybugs preferred flying to swimming."

"Very funny, Chat Noir," Ladybug answered as she looked up at him from where she lay full length in a puddle.

He put out a claw-tipped hand to help her up, but she ignored it and pushed herself upright, slicking off the street muck from her costume with both hands. "The hamster and I both thank you for the save. What are you doing here?"

"My sixth sense told me there was a Ladybug in need of assistance," he grinned, but didn't elaborate.

Another crack of thunder boomed as lightning lit up the sky. In the same moment, the rainwater surged and the slippery ball was flung around the baton - directly into the gutter drain.

Ladybug watched, shocked, as the ball went over the edge.

"Oh, no, _no_!" she groaned. "Chat, we've _got_ to save that hamster!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love comments and criticism. Please feel free to let me know where I can improve!


	8. Friday Pt 3

Adrien had been riding home from the rescheduled Eiffel Tower shoot, watching the stunning lightning storm through his car window. The finicky Monsieur Jak Thomas had cut the session short when the weather took a turn for the worse.

Preoccupied with thoughts about the fun Friday night of homework ahead of him, he'd done a double-take when he saw a familiar flash of red on the sidewalk. Was that Ladybug? What was she doing out in this storm? He pressed his hands and face to the glass, and was rewarded with another glimpse of red-and-spots when a flash of lightning illuminated the street.

When he got home, he took off straight for his room, locked the door, threw down his stuff, and held up his ring.

"Plagg, claws out!" he yelled, hoping he could get back in time to find Ladybug.

He jumped through his open window, careful to pull it shut behind him with the tips of his claws, and leapt rooftop to rooftop back to where he'd last seen his partner.

Chat Noir caught up to Ladybug as she was soaring down a residential street, chasing a cheap-looking plastic ball. He could see the danger of the storm drain and dropped lightly ahead of the ball and Ladybug. He plunged his baton into the water just as the sphere reached the drain and Ladybug splashed down into a puddle. Was that… a hamster?

"Hey, Bugaboo. I thought ladybugs preferred flying to swimming," he quipped, pleased to have made such a timely entrance.

"Very funny, Chat Noir," Ladybug replied, chagrined.

She stood and wiped herself off, snubbing his outstretched hand. "The hamster and I both thank you for the save. What are you doing here?"

"My sixth sense told me there was a Ladybug in need of assistance," he answered simply.

A sudden bolt of lightning lit up Ladybug's bluebell eyes, which widened further when she looked down at the gutter drain. Chat Noir looked down in time to see the pinned hamster ball escape his trap and disappear into the inky darkness. _Uh oh_ , he thought.

"Oh, no, _no_!" she ran a hand over her eyes. "Chat, we've _got_ to save that hamster!" Ladybug made a motion as though to dive into the storm drain, but Chat Noir grabbed her wrist.

"Wait, wait, you're not going down _there_ are you?" he asked, incredulous.

"It's a little girl's pet! I promised to get it back for her." Ladybug replied, yanking her hand free.

"You'll never find it down there; it's too late." Chat Noir saw the disappointment in Ladybug's face.

"You're right," she conceded. "We need another idea. Where exactly are we?" she asked, looking around.

Chat Noir glanced left and right, finally making out a barely visible sign at one end of the street. "Avenue Fremiet," he reported.

"Okay," Ladybug said with a decisive nod. "Even with all this rain, the Seine shouldn't have picked up too much speed. Let's head down to the river. With any luck, our furry friend will pop out there."

Her yo-yo swung out high and she was off, gliding through the pelting rain. Chat Noir followed, trusting her instincts.

When they reached the right bank of the Seine River, Chat Noir admitted to himself that the hamster rescue looked like a very long shot. In the dark, it was hard to see anything at all and even harder to get their bearings. Nevertheless, he and Ladybug went to the edge of the Voie Georges Pompidou and climbed down onto a rocky outcropping that appeared to be diminishing as the banks of the river slowly rose.

"Come on… where are you?" Ladybug muttered, almost to herself.

"Um… Ladybug?" Chat Noir asked. "I don't mean to pour _cold water_ on your plan, but..."

"What is it, Chat? I don't have time for jokes right now." Ladybug was squinting over the dark river, hands on her hips.

"It's the kind of joke I think you'll like," he said, waggling one end of his metal baton in front of her face. A small green light blipped intermittently. "When it's raining cats and dogs, sometimes you have to get creative."

"Chat Noir! You've been tracking her? Why didn't you say anything?" Ladybug straightened up and grabbed the baton from his hands.

"I thought it might get me in hot water...sheesh, looks like I was right," Chat Noir said, edging away with his hands held up as she glared at him.

"Enough rain puns," she said testily, one eye on the green flashing light.

"Water under the bridge," agreed Chat Noir.

He grinned when she shot him another look. She relented, handing back the baton with a smile.

"She should be floating by any minute, assuming there aren't any hang-ups." Chat Noir watched as Ladybug began to feed out the line of her yo-yo.

"Extend the baton and break it in two," she directed.

Chat Noir did as she asked, holding up a piece in each hand. Ladybug quickly wove a net with the excess slack from her yo-yo and then took one of the batons in her hands.

"Here she comes," she said and the two of them leaned out over the edge of the rocks they stood on.

Against the dark water Chat Noir saw a murky shape come closer until it solidified into the round hamster's ball, shining bright in his mask-aided night vision. They scooped it up together. Chat Noir detached the sticky tracker he'd slipped on it earlier and tucked it away in a zipper pocket. Ladybug held the ball securely while he pulled the batons free of the yo-yo's line. With a single snap, she sent the line outward and it came untangled, rolling taut between the twin discs.

An alert sounded as Chat Noir recoupled the two ends of his baton. He read the text message displayed on the small screen at one end.

"Uh-oh. Looks like the Louvre is finally about to flood. Our next stop?"

Ladybug nodded. "We should at least check in and see if we can help. I need to return the hamster to its rightful owner first, though."

"Shall we, Milady?" Chat Noir asked, pointing to a nearby bridge that spanned the river. He took from her the wet hamster in its plastic shell.

"Absolutely," she replied, looping an arm around his waist and flicking the yo-yo out to grip one of the lampposts that lit the bridge.

* * *

 

"Oh, it's Mirabeau Bridge," Ladybug murmured as they swung upward onto its surface.

"Do you know it?" Chat Noir asked, surprised.

"No, not really. There are some pretty sculptures." replied Ladybug as they lit upon the pavement and separated.

Chat Noir deposited the plastic globe into her arms. He swept his rain-soaked hair away from his forehead.

"Ladybug, wait," he said as he grasped her bent elbows with his claw-tipped fingers and drew her toward him.

"Chat Noir…" she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

The rain enveloped them, making Mirabeau Bridge a private world where only the two of them existed. Ladybug's cheeks were flushed as she met Chat Noir's eyes. He leaned close, putting his forehead against hers until he could see droplets of rain from their hair mingling to fall on their forearms. His heartbeat raced; he could feel her warm breath in short puffs against his cheek. He closed his eyes as he gathered the courage to speak.

An odd scuffling sound between Ladybug's hands pulled her out of the moment and she jerked backward, away from him.

"...I have to go deliver this hamster," she finished, her voice trembling slightly.

She gripped the ball containing the soggy rodent close against her side and whipped her yo-yo outward, her eyes never leaving Chat Noir's face.

"I'll meet you at the Louvre in thirty minutes!" she called as she sailed away.

Chat Noir sighed, leaning against the edge of the Mirabeau Bridge to watch her go. The bells of a distant church tolled, muffled by the rush of raindrops. The storm reminded him of the first time he'd talked to another girl. Maybe if he'd met Marinette before Ladybug...things would be different now. But there was no one in the world like Ladybug.

Back at the park, Ladybug swung in low under the tree that covered her umbrella and backpack. She stuffed the hamster into her bag and changed back to her school clothes.

_What was up with Chat Noir?_ she wondered. Her heart felt kind of fluttery and her stomach tingled. She put a hand to her head where Chat Noir had touched her. She hoped she wasn't coming down with something.

Marinette ran nimbly across the street to the bakery, avoiding puddles as best she could. Breathing hard and a little soaked, she left her umbrella and shoes in the downstairs hallway and huffed her way up the stairs. When she opened the door to home, she could see her parents cuddled on the couch, silhouetted by the television as they watched an old Gene Kelly movie.

Her mother glanced over her shoulder, then turned to greet her, "Hi, Honey, how was the library? Oh, goodness, you're soaking wet!" Sabine rose to tend to her daughter, but Marinette waved her off, clutching her backpack behind her.

"I'm fine, Maman. I'll get myself a towel from the bathroom. The library was good!" She set her backpack down at the kitchen table and pulled a blue towel from the linen closet.

She set about rubbing her head and squeezing rainwater from her pigtails, then rested the towel around her neck.

"Do you want to join us for a movie? This is a good one," entreated Tom from the couch. He patted the sofa cushion next to him.

"No, thanks, I'm alright. I'd like to head upstairs, if that's okay. I'm pretty tired."

"Yes, I'm sure you are, with all that running around you do!" her mother's words stopped Marinette short as she put her foot on the lowest stair.

"Wh-what?" she asked, turning a wide stare toward the couple on the couch. But they weren't facing her; they had turned back to the film.

"Oh, Sweetheart, the extra trip to the library, setting up a study date for Saturday… you're keeping busy!"

"Oh! Right, yes, yes I am."

Marinette turned back to the staircase and hustled herself and her backpack into her room before any more conversation could get started. She grimaced as a muffled squeak protested from within the bag, but it was so quiet, her parents didn't even lift their heads.

Up in her room, Marinette turned on her desk lamp and unzipped her bag. Laying the towel on the floor, she put the frightened hamster down on it and attempted to dry her off without losing the little scamp. Fortunately, she was much more interested in sniffing and nibbling at the small loops that made up the terrycloth of the towel than running. Her little twitchy whiskers were really cute. Marinette glanced around the room, tapping her finger against her chin. What would she do for a cage? She only had about twenty minutes until she needed to meet Chat.

Nothing in her room was suitable; any supply or shoe box would get chewed through and then it would be hamster rescue all over again. Marinette nodded as she made a decision. She put the hamster back in her ball and banked it with the towel to keep it from rolling noisily around the room.

Opening the trapdoor with nary a squeak, she stepped cautiously down her staircase, avoiding stairs three and five, which groaned a little when tread upon. Her parents were in a musical world of song and dance. As one of the big numbers reached a climax, she backed out of the door to the stairwell and snuck down to the bakery.

The bakery was pitch black, but Marinette knew her way around by heart. She pulled a large cake pan down from a shelf and looked in a supply closet for holiday decorations. Ah! Just what she needed: a deep wire basket used for Easter decorating in the front window. She tucked the two items under her arm, then nearly dropped them in shock when her phone rang. Marinette fumbled for it and quickly hit the answer button. It was a number she didn't recognize.

"He-hello?" she said in a near whisper, worried her parents might possible hear something over the sound of their movie and the heavy rain. "Oh! Elodie's mom? Hi! Yes, this is Marinette. Yes, I sure did. Ladybug found her safe and sound. Oh, no, that's no problem at all. Yes, it's pretty dark - oh, Elodie's worried? I… I suppose I can bring her back now. I was setting up a cage, but… okay, what's your address? That's just a couple blocks from here. I'm at the Dupain-Chengs' bakery. You know it? You can? Sure! I'll just wait by the side door for you, then. See you in a couple minutes."

She hung up and breathed a deep sigh of relief. One less problem to figure out - since she'd already told her parents she was going to bed! Marinette checked her phone. She had to meet Chat in ten minutes. She carefully replaced the wire basket and cake pan, then grabbed a half dozen day-old chocolate chip cookies, tightly wrapped in cellophane.

Marinette snuck successfully back into her room and closed the trapdoor with only the tiniest thump. Gene Kelly had been kissing Debbie Reynolds under a streetlight; her parents were officially oblivious to anything but old-timey romance. She grinned a little as she held the cookies up above her head.

"Tikki, are you up for a couple of quick-changes?" she asked, waving the cookies back and forth invitingly.

"What's going on, Marinette? Don't we need to meet Chat Noir soon?" Tikki's little black eyes sparkled when she saw the cookies.

Marinette unwrapped them and handed one to her kwami, who took it with dignity, then let the crumbs fly.

"Yes, we do. But first, little Hammy's mom is stopping by to pick her up. Sound okay?" Marinette giggled as Tikki polished off the cookie and held out a hand for another. She consumed her second treat as quickly as the first.

"Sure! I'm all charged up and ready to roll." Marinette's kwami floated languidly, then gave a tiny burp and clapped both hands over her mouth, embarrassed.

"In that case, Tikki, spots on!" Marinette's room was awash with the glow of magic as her Ladybug costume reappeared on her body.

She took the now-dry hamster and its ball and leapt lightly up to her loft, then out of her trapdoor onto the small balcony. The rain was still falling steadily, so she shielded the plastic bubble with her own body.

"Hup!" she exclaimed as she back-flipped over the balcony railing.

She gripped a drain pipe with one hand, her feet pressing silently against the outside wall of the bakery. Another light-footed leap, and she was on the ground below.

She backed into the deep shadows that pooled around the bakery's front door and changed to Marinette. She wished she had remembered the umbrella once more, but the recessed bakery entrance offered decent protection against the rain. Within a minute or two, a red four-door sedan pulled up at the front door, brakes slightly squeaking as it rolled to a stop. The engine rumbled softly as the driver's side window rolled down, revealing a blond woman in her thirties with a chin-length bob.

"Marinette?" she asked when she sighted the teenage girl huddled against the bakery's front door.

"Yes! You're Elodie's mom?" Marinette ran forward to the curb, getting soaked once again in the process.

She leaned down to eye level with the woman in the car and deposited the errant animal with its translucent container into her waiting arms.

"Diana," the woman replied with a smile. "Thank you so much for finding Antigone. Elodie's been worried sick."

"Oh, don't thank me; Ladybug did all the work. I'll pass along the message if I ever see her again."

Diana nodded. "You better go back in; it's really coming down out here. Thanks again."

Marinette waved as the woman rolled up her window and drove away. She melted back into the shadows of the doorway, eyes darting left and right to make sure no one was about.

"Okay, Tikki, time to catch up with Chat Noir. Spots on!" Transformation complete, Ladybug tugged the loop of her yo-yo over her finger and flung the red and black disc upward in the dark toward a smoking chimney. She whizzed away up into the air, headed for the saturated right bank of the Seine and the Louvre.

Ladybug landed silently on the roof of the Pavilion de l'Horloge, near the Pyramid, which shone like a beacon against the rough weather. She scanned the Cour Napoleon below and froze. Her jaw dropped open in surprise, but a slow delighted smile replaced her astonished expression.

In the wide courtyard, illuminated by the glow of myriad lamps, a small figure whirled and leapt, silver baton swinging to the rhythm of his steps. Ladybug sat down on the edge of the roof to take in the show, one knee pulled to her chest, an irrepressible grin blooming across her features. His arms and legs moved with a lithe grace borne of long practice, feet tapping a joyful beat against the cobblestones. The pale color of the stones gave his black costume a sharp outline even in the pouring rain.

As Chat Noir enthusiastically splashed through deep puddles to produce high waves of water, Ladybug swung down to meet him, still smiling.

"Well! Now I _know_ you must be an actor or something!" Chat Noir jumped in surprise and turned, a deep blush tinting his cheeks below his mask.

"Wha-what makes you say that?" he asked, one hand reaching up to rub the back of his neck. He minimized his baton and secured it against his back.

"Who else in the world would memorize the title dance number from _Singin' in the Rain?_ Or wait for the perfect rainstorm to dance it in?"

"A fan of the classics?" Chat Noir's cocky grin resurfaced.

He strode toward her, the spring still in his step. "Do you remember what made Don Lockwood feel like dancing?"

He came close and wiggled his eyebrows at her. Ladybug crossed her arms and returned his stare, not giving an inch. Inside, her mind was whirling and she found she had to force herself not to look down at her feet. Where was the serious Chat Noir from half an hour ago? She had to admit she was relieved - or at least, she was pretty sure she was relieved - to find him in a playful mood.

"Was he happy that the Louvre's precious collection was safe from harm?" She lifted one eyebrow and jerked a thumb over her shoulder at the building behind them. His grin only grew wider.

"You have to admit, basement archive rooms right next to a river is _pit_ -iful planning," he said, shaking his head. "Talk about digging yourself into a hole."

They ran to the Pyramid, where a security guard was stationed inside, out of the wet evening rain. He opened the door to talk to them as fresh lightning latticed across the sky and a ground-rumbling crack of thunder followed.

"Ladybug! Chat Noir! To what do we owe the pleasure?" Ladybug received an enthusiastic handshake and Chat Noir was thumped solidly on the back.

"We heard the museum is flooding. How can we help?"

The man's eyebrows lifted in surprise. "Actually, we've been anticipating this for days. They're just about finished moving all the archived works to the second floor. We're cutting it close, but we have it under control."

"Oh, okay, great! I guess-" just then, the lampposts of the Cour Napoleon flicked off, one by one up both sides of the courtyard.

The Pyramid winked out at the end, leaving them in total darkness. Lightning lit the area briefly, allowing Ladybug to see Chat Noir standing tall, his ears slightly flattened and head canted to one side. She tensed, yo-yo in her hand.

"Chat Noir?" she inquired.

The security guard flicked on a small flashlight.

"Sir, do you mind turning that back off, just for a moment?" The security guard graciously complied.

Chat Noir scanned the courtyard with his night vision, but nothing moved. He walked to the edge of the entrance foyer, near the spiral staircase that led to the museum below. Leaning on the railing, he looked all about, but saw nothing. The security guard's walkie-talkie squawked suddenly, causing all three of them to jump.

"No movement down there," Chat Noir confirmed as the man snapped his flashlight back on to dispel the creepy gloom and answered his summons.

"The elevator's down! We only have five more to go, but they're huge!" The desperate tone was audible even through the walkie-talkie's crackling distortion.

"Let's go!" Ladybug started forward in the dark, but Chat Noir checked her with a hand on her wrist.

"Haven't we been through this before, Milady?" he asked. "Why don't I take the lead on this one?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Story notes:  
> 1) If you've got five minutes for some "assigned reading", look up Le Pont Mirabeau by Guillaume Apollinaire, which is a real poem. I've seen about 5 or 6 different English translations online, so I bet it's best if you can read in the original French, but it's still lovely if you can't.   
> 2) My apologies for taking liberties with Paris' sewer system, which is one of the most advanced and famous in the world. You should read about it - literally centuries ahead of its time and still the most efficient in the world, according to many. Also, apologies for a few geographical fudges, probably OK, since Ladybug and Chat Noir live in a fictional part of town anyway.  
> 3) Seriously, Singin' in the Rain. If you've been under a rock, it's time to come out and watch that classic. At the very least, you can search the title on youtube for the famous song and dance - and see exactly what made Don Lockwood feel like dancing! (This story scene was one of those spontaneous surprises that happen while writing sometimes, and then when I went back and watched Gene Kelly, I have to say, the rain in that scene is exactly how I imagine it coming down over Paris during these chapters.)


	9. Friday Pt 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ladybug and Chat Noir check out sketchy occurrences at the Louvre.

Grumbling to herself, Ladybug assented, then startled when Chat Noir put his hands on her waist and lifted her into the air.

"Wait-what are you doing?" She struggled for a moment in the pitch-black as she was carried forward, unseeing.

"Express transport," Chat Noir chuckled, plunking her down on the spiral staircase's railing, "Unless you'd rather jump over the edge in the dark… or I could carry you over my shoulder?"

"Um, no thanks." She could just imagine the lights popping back on, and she slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

Chat Noir chuckled again and, steadying Ladybug with a hand on her hip, he pushed her forward as he ran down the steps, taking two and three at a time. She gripped the railing just tight enough to keep her balance, still blind in the dark. She could feel air gusting past her face and through her wet bangs; she suddenly realized she was grinning. It was like going down the longest slide she'd ever been on!

A peal of laughter burst out of her mouth and echoed across the empty foyer of the lower ground floor. She clapped her free hand over her lips, embarrassed at her lack of professionalism in front of the security guard. He was far above them, using his flashlight to come down the stairs at his own pace. She glanced at Chat Noir; all she could see of him was his green-yellow eyes and she couldn't determine his expression. He slowed their pace at the bottom of the stairs. She felt her way down off the railing with a tentative toe, then stood.

"Nothing to it," said Chat Noir, choosing not to comment on her overly-loud reaction to his inventive solution.

He grabbed her hand and pulled her forward, running deeper into the museum. She followed without hesitation, grateful he couldn't see the blush that lingered on her warm cheeks. Or could he? When they were well ahead of the guard, Chat Noir stopped short and pulled her into an alcove, out of sight.

"Chat, what-" she started, but he cut her off, pressing a hand over her lips. Annoyed, she snatched it away, but stayed silent.

"Something's up. I can't tell what, yet. I think I heard… I don't know what I heard, but we should keep our eyes and ears open."

"You'll have to do that for the both of us. The ears, at least." She took advantage of the brief pause to slide the halves of her yo-yo apart, giving her a small amount of light to run by. "You're right. Lights out at the Louvre doesn't make sense. The artifacts here are priceless; there's no way they don't have a secondary, or maybe even a tertiary redundancy system to keep everything protected." They nodded in silent agreement, slipping back into the wide hall as the security guard caught up to them.

"Things look okay out here," Chat Noir said a little too loudly, projecting confident assurance. Ladybug wanted to shake her head, but just let him run on. "Perimeter seems secure. Where do we go from here?"

The guard indicated a direction with the beam of his flashlight. "Over there. The service elevators and emergency stairs are this way."

They followed him to an area of the museum that generally saw less traffic, which led to an out-of-the-way hall behind a partition, which led to a wide set of elevator doors and a regular door with a pictogram of stairs and a stick figure on it. When the man pushed open the stairwell door, voices could be heard arguing and various flashlight beams bobbed around, painting the walls with random streaks of light up and down the stairwell. The guard spoke into his walkie-talkie; they could hear his distorted voice echo in several places above and below. It managed to silence the strident tones flying around the small space.

"Ladybug and Chat Noir are here. We're at level -1. What's your status, Assistant Director?"

Rather than a response by walkie-talkie, the trio heard the quiet tap of expensive loafers on the metal stairs. A flashlight shone down from above them and a solidly-built man in his fifties with salt-and-pepper hair joined them on the landing.

"I am Assistant Director Marcel," he said curtly, shaking hands with both of the superheroes. "As Julien has probably told you, we have nearly completed the temporary relocation of our archive - but this power outage causes a new wrinkle. The service elevator is equipped to handle even the largest paintings, but this staircase…" he looked down his nose at the open space to his left, lip curling up in annoyance. "Carrying these items up four flights of stairs would be taxing under the best circumstances, but we are in danger of wedging priceless art against the rails like cheap furniture for an upstairs apartment! I can't risk this kind of damage. We are running out of time here. Ladybug, do you have any suggestions?"

"Is there backup power in case of emergency?" she asked.

"Normally, yes, however, during the flood last year, we apparently used all the gasoline in both of our generators. I admit a lack of foresight there. I should have had them checked long before the threat of another outage. I assumed…" he trailed off as Ladybug took advantage of the myriad beams of light to lean over and glance down the utilitarian stairwell. The single floor below them was the basement. She looked up into the bright spots of light above, gauging the distance of three floors.

"I do have one idea… Assistant Director, do you have anything resembling a large bedsheet?" She grinned at Chat Noir, who returned her inexplicable mirth with a curious 'what-are-you-doing?' look, lips twisted to one side.

The Assistant Director sent someone off to the cafe for a tablecloth, which was returned within just a few minutes.

"Chat, head upstairs - and be ready to catch."

Chat Noir complied, hopping to the rail, knees bent, gripping it with his hands. He sprang up and across the center space of the stairwell, landed on all fours, and continued up until he met with the group of employees crammed onto the landing of the second floor.

"Catch?" AD Marcel repeated. " _Catch?_ Catch what?" He was balanced forward on his toes, almost ready to grab Ladybug by the shoulders in his anxiety.

"Trust me, Assistant Director. It's the safest, fastest way."

Lighting the stairs below her with her yo-yo, Ladybug came to the bottom floor of the museum. She arranged three employees to help her with the tablecloth, which they stretched across the central open space of the stairwell. Two more employees hesitantly loaded onto the sheet an archived masterpiece, carefully packed between layers of acid-free cardboard and tied and sealed in such a way as to protect the priceless artwork from moisture damage. She gave the tablecloth a gentle, testing lift.

"Ready, Chat Noir?" she shouted up the stairwell into darkness.

"Ready!" came the echoing reply.

"Okay, just like we practiced, everybody. One...two... _three!_ " On three, each museum employee heaved as hard and high as they could go, with Ladybug providing the oomph to send the large painting flying upward.

This one was only about five feet across; she had every confidence that Chat Noir would secure it at the top of its arc before gravity could take effect. A dozen flashlight beams followed the broad rectangle as it rose, giving it a spectral quality as it silently shot toward its destination. Sure enough, a pair of black-clad arms reached out and plucked it from the air, drawing it back and away out of sight.

"Got it!" Chat Noir's triumphant voice rang out as thunder cracked outside.

A cheer went up from the assembled crew. The Assistant Director was utterly pale in the light of the flashlight beams, but he managed a shaky smile. The remaining four pieces were successfully transferred the same way as the first. The mood in the small space brightened appreciatively, several employees chatting and laughing, now that the danger was past.

"Ladybug, how can I ever thank you?" AD Marcel asked, having regained his composure upon Chat Noir's final grab of the fifth painting.

He shook her hand again and, surprising her, leaned in to kiss both of her cheeks. She felt, rather than saw, Chat Noir land next to her in the near-darkness.

"No need," she assured the Assistant Director, extracting her hands from his ebullient grasp. She turned to Chat Noir. "Ready to go?"

"Absolutely. They've got a _grip_ on things upstairs."

"Good," Ladybug replied, stifling a yawn. "It's been a long night."

Chat Noir pushed open the nearest door and held it for her, motioning her through ahead of him. She felt too tired to protest. He grabbed her hand and they loped off into the darkness, Ladybug feeling grateful she didn't have to navigate through the enormous, silent museum with her tiny flashlight. She yawned into her hand again, eyes squeezing closed. They snapped open the next instant and she stopped suddenly as though someone had splashed her with a bucket of cold water. Chat Noir skidded to a halt and looked back at her.

"Ladybug?"

"The Assistant Director didn't say the generators were _low_ on gas, he said they were _empty_ ," she gasped. "What are the odds that a pair of unused generators are going to be completely empty after a year in storage?"

"Seems unlikely," agreed Chat Noir.

"A better question: what are the odds that someone around here has access and _drained_ the generators - on a rainy week with a predicted flood and thunderstorm occurring on the same night?" Ladybug crossed her arms over her chest and tapped her toe, thinking.

"Thieves?" Chat Noir ventured.

"And an inside job, to boot," Ladybug asserted. "Maybe we better complete a _real_ perimeter check before we leave." She looked all around, frustrated by the darkness crowding in on every side. "Chat, I'm nearly useless in here. I should go outside, while you take the interior." She sighed and rubbed tired eyes. "No, that doesn't work either. This place is too _big_ for the two of us to search! Where would they go? We need to narrow it down."

"Or maybe we need to call in the cavalry," Chat Noir suggested. "I'll contact the police; you go back and talk to the Assistant Director."

"Good idea, Chat Noir," Ladybug nodded. She popped on her light to walk back to the stairwell solo, but before she'd taken a step, she saw Chat Noir give a shiver out of the corner of her eye, like he had an itch in the middle of his back. "What is it, Chat? That's the second time tonight."

"Nothing- I don't know. Ignore me; I think it's just this big, old place." He gave a shrug that was half shudder and stared around at the upper corners of the ceiling.

"You're freaking me out, Chat. It doesn't seem like nothing."

"I uh, well, do you get the feeling we're being, maybe... watched?" His voice had dropped to a near whisper.

Lightning flashed, exposing his silhouette with shoulders hunched, neck craning upward to peer about. Ladybug pursed her lips into a frown.

"Chat Noir, are you trying to punk me? We have work to do."

"What? No! I'm -"

Ladybug huffed out a breath and gripped her yoyo again, stalking away down the hall by its meager light. "Keep an eye on things, and call me if you run across those thieves, Chat Noir."

A few people were still talking in the dark on the stairs; Ladybug could make out the voice of AD Marcel.

"Good, good. Did someone go out and get some gasoline yet? We have more to do this evening."

Ladybug quietly opened and closed the stairwell door, intending to be polite, but only served to startle the small group on the landing.

"I'm sorry," she apologized quickly, "Assistant Director, do you have a moment?" She steered him out into the hall with a hand on one arm.

"What is it, young lady?" The AD's stern attitude was back in place. His bushy eyebrows pulled forward into a deep V over his eyes.

"You have thieves in your building."

"What? Impossible!"

"Very possible, with the lights out and the redundancy system offline."

"No, I don't think-" He broke off as the realization came to him. "Oh, _merde_." He straightened his shoulders and strode to the stairs once more. "Come with me to my office, whatever good it may do. I hate to admit it, but we are, in fact, defenseless at the moment."

Ladybug matched his pace and they climbed quickly to the administrative offices of the Louvre on the top floor. AD Marcel unerringly inserted a key into the lock on the door despite the lack of light. Ladybug had the impression he'd been coming here every day for a very long time. He let them in, just as lights flickered overhead and dimly cast partial illumination over the historic offices.

"Ah, someone finally arrived with gasoline. Perfect timing."

The room they stood in smelled of centuries of furniture polish, cigarettes, old carpets, and dust. It was filled with filing cabinets, antique furniture, and modern computer equipment. Ladybug followed the AD to another door at the back of the first room, behind a massive and ornate wooden desk. He unlocked this door as well and ushered her inside.

"My office," he explained, stepping quickly around the edge of another heavily carved desk and pecking at the keyboard. "Security feeds will be back up."

"Let's see what we can see," she suggested. "Chat Noir is in touch with the police now."

Images of various sections of the museum popped up in a grid across the large monitor. Every five seconds, they switched to another view.

In the third round, Ladybug jabbed a red-gloved finger at the screen. "There!" she exclaimed, her finger resting on the image of a figure in smooth black leather, quietly tip-toeing down the steps of the Daru staircase in front of the Winged Victory of Samothrace, his body pressed into the shadows.

AD Marcel selected the video feed with his mouse and it enlarged to fill the screen. A quiet beep on her yo-yo rang out insistently. She opened it up and looked at the face within.

"Chat Noir, we see you. What's going on?"

"Whatever they've got, it looks heavy and I'm guessing it must be weatherproof. They only have it covered with a dropcloth. They're headed to the Pyramid now, but they have to negotiate the stairs since the escalator's out of commission."

AD Marcel was outraged. "Out the front door? Could they really be so brazen? It's too much!"

"Well, we did take Julien with us when we came to help. Or maybe they assumed they could overpower him in the dark. Either way, I think they were counting on the element of surprise to pull this off. Chat Noir, are you going to confront them alone?"

"That depends. Do I need to?" She saw Chat Noir stop at the end of the staircase and lean against the wall, one foot crossed over the other.

A faint shadowy distortion passed over the image, but when Ladybug blinked, the screen was clear. AD Marcel clicked over to a feed that showed the large area near the ticketing counter and they caught their first view of the struggling thieves as they staggered across under the weight of a heavy sculpture.

AD Marcel's cell phone rang before she could answer Chat Noir; he tapped it to receive the call. "Yes, this is the Assistant Director. Ah, Mr. Raincomprix? Thank you very much… yes, Chat Noir is correct. He's been following a pair of thieves to the main entrance. Could you gather your force outside the Pyramid? Yes, they are still inside the museum at this time. Can we do anything to help? Alright. Thank you again." He hung up.

"Chat, just keep an eye on them. Cavalry's arrived," she replied with a smile. Chat Noir winked at her.

"Alright. Chat out," he answered cheerfully in an imitation of her standard phrase before disconnecting the call.

The small group watched as the thieves exhausted themselves climbing the escalator, only to be caught at the top by Sabrina's dad and a complement of Paris' finest. They were too tired to attempt escape. AD Marcel pushed back his leather office chair to stand, intending to meet the police.

"My thanks again, Ladybug. Ah, it's not much, but come by anytime and the ticketing counters will have standing instructions to allow you and Chat Noir free entrance during the Louvre's open hours."

Ladybug opened his window, ready to go home. "That's very kind of you, Assistant Director! It's been my pleasure." With a final smile to cover her weariness, Ladybug leaned out of the window into the rain and jumped.

She sent her yo-yo around the nearest lamppost and swung clear of the ground below. On her left, Chat Noir appeared, using his baton to vault across the space between them. He caught up to her and they came to rest on a nearby rooftop, drops of rain splashing down around their feet in a noisy patter. Ladybug couldn't hide the huge yawn that erupted as she reeled in her yo-yo and stood facing her partner.

He laughed. "No more adventures for you, Milady. It's getting late. I think we've done enough damage for one evening." She nodded agreement as yet another yawn took over, preventing her from speaking.

"I'll see you next time, Chat Noir. Thanks for the assist." Strangely, she found her tired mind seeking some excuse to prolong their time together, even as her arm was already flicking her yo-yo out to take her home. When she looked back, however, he was gone. A flash of lightning revealed only a small figure leaping away in the distance.

Ladybug came back to her own rain-soaked balcony and landed on a pile of pillows in her loft, transforming as she did so. Her room was just as she had left it; she looked down at the dim glow of her desk lamp… and noticed the small pile of library books next to it. Her report! She'd forgotten all about her plans to study this evening!

"Oh, Tikki…" she sighed, feeling the weight of the world press in on her. "I still have to study. Why do I do this to myself?"

"It'll be okay, Marinette. Come sit down and I'll keep you company." Tikki's warm reassurance calmed the bloom of anxiety in Marinette's chest.

She stepped down from her loft and gathered up paper, pencil, and the three books in the stack. Arms and legs aching with fatigue, she shuffled back up to her soft bed. Her feet protested with phantom pains when she finally kicked her shoes off. She rubbed them gently, then grabbed the first book at hand.

"Okay, I can do this…" she breathed, rolling onto her stomach and turning to the first page.

She managed about a page and a half before her cheek came down onto the surface of the book and she and her kwami slept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! If you've made it this far, drop me a review. I'm always looking to improve. How are the characterizations and interactions? Is the story fun? There's more to come!


	10. Saturday Pt 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette has a date at the library to work on her project with Adrien... but she hasn't done any of the research! Fortunately (or unfortunately), an akuma gets in the way.

Soft, morning sunlight woke Marinette from a deep, dreamless sleep. She blinked sand from her eyes and yawned.

 _What time is it?_ she wondered, stretching her arms out wide.

Her phone politely chimed a notification, then went back to sleep. She grabbed it and looked at the analog-style clock displayed on the screen. 9:43 am. Hmmm. Something wiggled at the back of her brain, but she couldn't think what it was. Tikki, ever a late sleeper, sighed softly on Marinette's pillow. Marinette was half-tempted to lay back down and snuggle up with her. This was the most peaceful morning she'd had in a while. Especially after last night...

She lay back with her arms behind her head, thinking about her partner. He'd been weird last night. She knew Chat Noir was a big flirt, but he was harmless... wasn't he? She couldn't decide.

Suddenly, she sat straight up and grabbed her phone. _9:45! Adrien!_ She was supposed to be at the school, working on her report with Adrien!

"Tikki wake up we gotta go!" Marinette flung back her covers and nearly jumped over the loft's ladder to the floor. "Crap, I cannot _believe_ this..." she muttered, pulling on fresh clothes and jamming her feet into her shoes.

No time for a shower, no time to eat. She had to get there before he gave up on her and went home.

"What's the matter, Marinette?" Tikki yawned, floating slowly down from the loft to meet her chosen.

Marinette grabbed her and set her - a little roughly - in her purse.

"Hey!" Tikki squeaked.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Tikki. That wasn't right." Marinette forced herself to slow down and take a breath. She reached for her kwami with gentle fingers and brought Tikki close to her face for a good look. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. You're forgiven," answered Tikki. "What's the rush?" She blinked lazily as Marinette set her back in the purse - gently this time.

Marinette gathered up her books, her handout, and the paltry half-page of notes she had scribbled toward her analysis of the poem. She checked her phone one more time: no messages from Adrien; one good luck emoji from Alya an hour old.

"I have to get to the school - I'm forty-five minutes late! Maman and Papa are busy Saturday mornings, they probably didn't notice I'm still here..."

"...which means Ladybug can shave a few minutes off your travel time," suggested Tikki, smirking at her with bright eyes.

"Good thinking, Tikki! Spots on!" Awash in a warm pink glow, Ladybug jumped through Marinette's skylight in one smooth motion, gripping the edge of the frame and flipping her legs up and through.

She dove off the balcony, free in the bright morning air. The school was literally seconds away. Ladybug bounded across rooftops and swung past chimneys, her goal quickly coming into sight. She smiled as her final leap brought her in a high arc down onto the school's roof. Maybe she could still salvage this study date. Maybe Adrien wouldn't be mad at her for almost standing him up. Maybe... she blinked as her toes touched down, inches away from a pair of cat's paw steel toes.

Ladybug brought her eyes up, only to find herself practically nose-to-nose with Chat Noir, who looked as surprised as she felt. His wide-open cat's eyes quickly narrowed with a smile for her. Oh, no, how would she ever get out of this one? She could practically _feel_ Adrien's presence, down in the library, wondering where she was.

"Good morning, Milady. Rest well? You were pretty tired last night." Chat Noir didn't move a muscle, seeming very comfortable up close in her personal space, his nose inches from hers.

Ladybug took a step back. There was nothing for it. She'd have to talk her way out of this one, and fast. Ladybug didn't want to snub her partner, but her love life was on the line here.

"Hi, Chat. What are you doing up so early? I usually don't see you until at least noon, and not without an akuma." She clenched her jaw into a smile at this, eyes slipping toward the roof of the library, mere feet away. Adrien was _so close_...

"You know the long paw of the law never rests," Chat Noir reached out with a claw, flexing a little.

"Not even a cat nap?"

"You're making puns today. I like that in a Ladybug."

"Hmmm. I must have crossed paths with one too many black cats. Well, this has been fun, but-"

BOOM. The deep, bass vibration rocked the building under the two superheroes. They grabbed each others' arms to steady themselves, eyes widening in alarm.

"Did that come from the school?" asked Chat Noir, all traces of mirth erased from his voice.

Another deep boom shook them again in answer to his question.

"Let's go," Ladybug said, flicking her yo-yo out and swinging down into the school's courtyard below.

Chat Noir followed suit, the end of his baton slapping the concrete of the courtyard as he slid down it like a fireman's pole. A quick glance showed the open area to be empty, but they both swung their faces up to the library doors as they banged open and several students came running out.

"There!" Ladybug pointed, but she needn't have bothered.

Chat Noir was already on his way up to the second floor, silver baton telescoped out behind him as he was propelled up and over the railing of the staircase that led to the library. Ladybug growled to herself and swung up to follow, irritated at his impulsive eagerness to join a fight.

One more student pushed through the entrance to the library and hightailed it down the stairs, panting in terror. Ladybug took the opportunity to grab the door before it closed, staying low as she peeked around the edge for a better look. Bookshelves crowding the large space made it hard to see anything. Visibility was further hampered by flashing lights and smoke boiling up from somewhere in the center of the room.

She couldn't see Adrien anywhere. Was he okay? What if he was hurt? A quiet groan issued from the shadows about a meter to her right.

 _Oh, no,_ she thought weakly. A student she recognized but didn't know was trapped under a tilted bookcase that leaned against the wall, its volumes scattered in a dangerously heavy pile over his body. She pulled her head back out and quietly let the door slip closed.

"Chat Noir, we've got injured inside. We need to wrap this up fast before someone gets crushed! I didn't see the akuma - yet. There's a lot of smoke in there." Ladybug took a moment to think. "We need a distraction and we need to clear the air out so we can keep our bearings."

Chat Noir nodded once and sprang upward on powerful legs to the top of the library. Ladybug tensed by the door, her ear pressed close as she listened for the right moment.

The brittle crash of broken glass cued her entrance, which was swift and quiet. _Good thinking, Chat_ , she thought as she crouched low in the shadows by the door and quickly lifted heavy volumes off the student there. He started to speak, but she pressed a gloved hand to his mouth and shook her head once, motioning to keep silence. She could hear her partner's confident voice, but couldn't make out whatever lame puns he was supplying to keep the akuma distracted. The hazy air cleared slowly as smoke escaped through the window Chat Noir had broken. An angry shout that reverberated all over the room and shook the floor told her he was very successful at catching the akuma's attention.

Ladybug helped the shaken student to stand and pushed him out of the library doors, closing them firmly behind him. He'd have to fend for himself from here on out. She turned and strode forward to get a good look at their adversary, yo-yo whirling in a defensive shield.

A billow of smoke cleared to reveal a floating green wisp of fabric. Ladybug followed the fluttering skirt line up to a willowy, graceful green figure with long, shapely arms and a delicately embroidered blouse that fit close to a trim waist and long back. The creature's head was crowned with deep green tresses that flowed in suspended swirls as though she floated underwater. Ladybug's mouth dropped open and the speed of her yo-yo slowed. She'd never seen Hawkmoth create anything so... beautiful.

The creature sensed Ladybug's presence behind her and slowly turned her head to reveal a sculpted profile and one eye that blazed with yellow fire.

 _Oh, merde,_ though Ladybug.

She dove to the left as the akuma gave a musical bellow that belied her exquisite appearance, sending a streak of fire after the red blur that escaped behind a bookshelf. Ladybug didn't stop to catch her breath, sensing the attack that followed on her heels. Sure enough, moving explosions impossibly rounded the end of bookshelf to chase her as the akuma leveled more firepower at her unseen enemy. The tall, heavy bookshelf rocked, but didn't topple over. Ladybug could see students huddled in dark corners as she ran. This place was too dangerous for a fight. Where had Chat Noir gone?

As though she'd voiced her concern aloud, Chat Noir's extended baton tapped down in front of her, blocking her way. Ladybug slid to a halt and grabbed the end.

"Going up, Milady!" he called down to her from the broken window, then hoisted her and jumped away. Ladybug gripped tightly and angled her body through the empty frame, careful not to touch the sharp glass on the sides as she was drawn through.

"We need to get her out and away from the students!" she exclaimed as they steadied themselves on the school's roof.

"Not a _purr-_ oblem," answered Chat Noir, pointing over her shoulder.

The green woman, fluttering skirts gathered in one hand, rose behind Ladybug, who pivoted and backed up to stand next to Chat Noir with fists raised.

"I am Imaginia," the green woman said in a low, rich contralto. "Thy Miraculous shalt be mine, in exchange for my release from mundane drudgeries unbefitting a firstborn daughter of Olatea. If thou choose to defend thyself, know that I shall not give quarter. Neither do I desire suffering; thy deaths shall be swift and without pain."

"Well, that's a relief," muttered Chat Noir. "Fair Imaginia," he called in a loud voice, "Hawkmoth doth use thee abominably, with no true care for thy concerns. Renounce his control and let us help thee." He finished with a bow and Ladybug's eyes widened.

"Where the heck did that come from?" she whispered out of the side of her mouth.

Chat Noir shrugged.

"Seemed like a good time to make the offer," he whispered back. "Who says we can't ever use diplomacy?"

"Fair enough," Ladybug shrugged.

"Hawkmoth doth tell me that _thou_ art the liars," hissed Imaginia, fiery eyes blazing as a purple moth-shaped outline flared. "Thou wouldst do anything to preserve thy Miraculous!"

Imaginia flicked a finger across the page of the open book held in her other hand and laughed, a low sound that would have been soothing if not for the malicious edge to it. Ladybug dodged the shot of energy that crackled past, but quickly realized it hadn't been meant to hurt her.

"Uh, oh," she said, turning just as a manticore of ancient myth materialized beside her.

"Illusions! Hawkmoth's used this one before!" Chat Noir shouted, jumping in front of Ladybug and whipping his staff down onto the manticore's visage before she could stop him.

He succeeded in whacking the monster right on its lion nose and it roared in anger and pain, then reared up to beat the air with its giant bat wings.

Ladybug grabbed her shocked partner by the tail and yanked him back just as the manticore's heavy scorpion tail stabbed down where Chat Noir had been standing. They could hear Imaginia's fearsome laugh.

"Play nicely with my pet, heroes. I draw him from the stories of old. Any creature, any character imagined by the minds of men is mine to create. I. Desire. More." Imaginia punctuated each word with another swipe across her spellbook.

More crackles of energy shot through the air and revealed other mythical beings - a gryphon, a dragon, and a minotaur straightened up and faced the two heroes with war in their eyes.

"I think I need to change my kitty litter," said Chat Noir, eyes wide as the four huge monsters arrayed themselves around the two teens.

"The akuma must be in her book, Chat Noir," Ladybug said as they stood back-to-back, whirling their weapons as shields. "We can't keep taking on her creations; we need to stop them at the source. Wait for my signal."

She gripped Chat Noir's forearm as she felt him tense behind her. The monsters paced closer, then stopped, a couple of them pawing at the ground. The manticore's scorpion tail lashed the air and a terrifying growl issued from the throat of the minotaur.

"Just hang on..." Ladybug saw something shift minutely in the muscular chest of the dragon. "Now!" she shouted as the creatures sprang forward in a concentrated attack.

Her yo-yo flew upward over the gryphon's head and wrapping around a protruding structure. She grabbed ahold of Chat Noir's hand, flinging them both into the air over the charging monsters. Committed to the charge, the monsters couldn't stop themselves from crashing into a messy pile of legs, wings, and fearsome teeth and beaks. Ladybug used her momentum to whip Chat Noir at Imaginia, whose eyes blazed with anger and shock.

"Cataclysm!" he shouted as he shot past her, his outstretched claws raking across the spellbook that lay open in the palm of her hand.

"Noooo!" Imaginia howled as the book disintegrated and the monsters evaporated into crackles of electricity. "What hast thou done? My life - my love - all of it _gone!"_

She sank down to the roof, a sprinkling of ashes floating out from between long green fingers in the breeze. No butterfly was in evidence, however. Imaginia bowed her head and teardrops darkened the soft fabric of her long skirt.

Ladybug and Chat Noir came to stand before her, puzzled.

"Where's the akuma?" asked Ladybug as they stood over the sorrowing woman.

She whirled, looking over the rooftop to be sure she hadn't somehow missed the dangerous insect. "Do you see it anywhere?"

Chat Noir leaned back and looked up, shaking his head.

"No, I don't," he replied, concerned. He glanced down and jumped. "What the-"

Ladybug turned to see and started. "Where did she go?"

Imaginia had disappeared, leaving them alone on the rooftop.

"Thou insist on opposing me," came a soft voice, too soft to be heard by their ears. Chat Noir shook his head as though to clear it, but the speaker continued. "Perhaps one of these penniless peasants can be of use. Your Miraculous, or the young scholars will pay - for their debts and thine."

Imaginia's loathsome chuckle rang through Ladybug's head.

"She's back in the library," Ladybug groaned, "with hostages this time."

Chat Noir checked his ring. "I'll stay with you as long as I can, Ladybug, but I only have a few minutes."

Ladybug nodded and threw her yo-yo in the air.

"Miraculous Ladybug!" she cried.

A small red rectangle with black polka dots dropped into her palm. She slid open an inner tray to reveal matches inside.

"Looks like we'll be fighting fire with fire this time?" she pondered.

"I'm sure you'll come up with the _purr-_ fect plan, Milady." Chat Noir shot a grin at her as they both headed to the edge of the roof and back to the broken window.

They dropped in and landed together on top of a bookcase. Imaginia was waiting for them, a frightened student held in one arm and a vicious smile on her beautiful lips.

"I see thou hast come to return what is borrowed - better than I can say for this rabble," Imaginia intoned, and her eyes swept over the few frightened students still in the library. "Their promises mean naught and their coin is as scarce as their virtue. Yet they take, and take, and take again, without repayment or reparation."

She fixed the two superheroes with a haughty gaze. "I could say the same of thee, upon thy destruction of my precious tome - my world and home."

As she hitched the student higher in her hold, Ladybug noticed the glint of Imaginia's necklace. It was elegantly detailed, with finely-wrought gold wire linking rich stones. What caught Ladybug's eye, however, were two round pieces of glass that hung at the bottom of the design and reflected the bright light of morning that streamed in from outside. The circular lenses reminded her of an old-timey pince-nez, or maybe of glasses... _that hung on a cord around the neck_.

"Mrs. Daviau!" she gasped to herself, recognition slamming through her.

How could the small, plain librarian have become something so alien? So lovely? She dropped to the floor, leaving Chat Noir above, and grabbed several books at random from the shelf beside her.

"That's not all I'll be destroying," Ladybug warned, kneeling to open the first book and pulling a match out of the box in her palm.

She struck it against the rough paper on the side of the box and it flared, lighting up her eyes behind her mask.

"If you can draw on all of literature to make your creatures, maybe I should narrow down the options a bit." She made as though to press the lit match against the pages of the book and smiled to herself when she heard Imaginia's horrified gasp.

"Thou wilt NOT!" the green-skinned woman screamed, tossing her hostage away and flowing toward Ladybug with all the speed she could muster.

Ladybug saw Chat Noir's quick catch of the young man before he could land on scattered chairs and tables. As Imaginia bore down on her, Ladybug dropped the match and jumped back. Without regard for her own skin, the beautiful green woman snaked a long arm out to catch the lit match before it could touch old, dry paper.

Her shining necklace dangled away from her chest and Ladybug made an easy grab for it, breaking the links that held it together. She smashed the two glass circles against the tile of the library floor and a purple stained butterfly floated free.

"Time to de-evilize!" shouted Ladybug as she straightened, a confused Imaginia blinking up from where she lay on the ground.

Ladybug caught the akuma in her yo-yo and released it.

"Bye bye, little butterfly," she waved with a smile.

"Miraculous Ladybug!" she called, tossing the matchbox toward the library ceiling. A glowing rush of ladybugs righted the shelves, tables, and chairs and repaired the broken window of the library.

Ladybug looked back at Imaginia, who should have dissipated in a release of purple smoke as Chat Noir joined her on the library floor. Instead, the lovely woman rose and drew herself up with dignity, looking down at them from her great height. Her alien eyes had died down to a golden glow, her bearing too regal for a high school library.

"I thank thee for thy aid, young heroes. Hawkmoth's lies are compelling and clouded the truth my creator sought to bring forward. And yet, one who caretakes the knowledge bound within the pages here with such meticulous fidelity is worthy of great honor. To lack respect for her love is folly."

"Your creator...the librarian!" Chat Noir groaned, bringing a hand to the back of his neck. "So that's what you meant about penniless takers. I guess she didn't feel _fine_ about overdue books."

"Where's Mrs. - um, where _is_ the librarian?" asked Ladybug.

She'd never seen an akuma outlast her Miraculous Ladybug. Imaginia seemed harmless now, but what if her terrifying anger returned?

"She is here," the woman said, placing a hand on her heart. "She fears to reveal her physical self, lest she be judged harshly for her creation. This magic is quickly fading, however, and I will not be with thee long."

"Her creation ... you? But Hawkmoth created you!" Ladybug's brow furrowed as Imaginia smiled and shook her head.

"Hawkmoth may have brought me out of my pages, but I owe my life to Eugenia Daviau."

Imaginia's whole body began to shimmer and they saw the short, round silhouette of Mrs. Daviau within the taller form. A cloud of golden and green sparkles lifted away from the woman and floated gently into a large, bound manuscript that rested on one of the restored library tables.

Mrs. Daviau's hands covered her eyes, her thick glasses hanging from a cord around her neck. Next to the deep jewel tones of Imaginia, her drab gray and brown ensemble made her seem nearly invisible. Ladybug stood in front of the older woman and pulled her hands away from her eyes. Deep embarrassment was evident in the woman's flushed cheeks and robbed her of speech as she looked up at Ladybug and Chat Noir.

"Mrs.- um, Ma'am, Imaginia is extraordinary. Have you let anyone read your book?" Chat Noir handed Mrs. Daviau the manuscript and she clutched it to her chest, shaking her head.

"No, I've never had the courage," Mrs. Daviau whispered.

A few students came forward as Ladybug's miraculous beeped. Chat Noir checked his ring as well.

"Mrs. Daviau, that was phenomenal. I mean, except for being so terrified..." the student broke off as Mrs. Daviau blushed again, but another took up the thread.

"Yeah! Imaginia was scary, but beautiful. You have a whole book about her? You should get it published! I didn't know you were a writer, too!"

A true smile lit up Mrs. Daviau's face as the students clamored around her, revealing her to be much younger than Ladybug had ever realized. She and Chat Noir backed up as a crowd pressed in around their librarian.

"Gotta go! I think I hear that catnap calling," Chat Noir waved as he leapt up to the second floor and let himself out through a newly-restored window.

Ladybug exited the library via the front doors, while all attention remained on Mrs. Daviau. Luckily, not many kids took Saturday classes at College Francoise Dupont. Seeing no one, she raced down to the girl's restroom before anyone could catch a glimpse of Ladybug. She made it to a stall just in time; her costume disappeared in a burst of color and she looked down into Tikki's tiny smiling face.

"Whew, that was a close one, Tikki!" Marinette whispered.

She checked her phone. There was still time. Maybe Adrien had waited for her. She took off running, the door to the girl's room crashing open with a bang as she hurtled through it. Passing several students leaving the library, she rushed up the stairs her alter ego had been running down moments earlier and skidded to a stop in front of the library's main door. She heard the lock click on the other side.

"Oh, no, it's closed!" she wailed. "I'm too late! I can't believe this!"

"Marinette?" a voice called to her across the courtyard.

Adrien stepped through the front door, book bag slung over his shoulder. Marinette raced down the stairs and crossed the courtyard quickly to meet him, a blush spreading from the roots of her hair down to her neck.

"Adrien, I am so, so sorry. You didn't have to come back; I overslept and I came as fast as I could, and then there was an akuma attack... I am so, so, _so_ sorry!"

"Come back? I just got here. You overslept? Really? Me, too. I'm the one who should be apologizing - I didn't mean to stand you up."

"Stand _me_ up? I stood you up." Marinette clarified.

They looked at each other for another second, then burst out laughing.

"There was an akuma here? Seriously?" Adrien asked.

Marinette nodded.

"The librarian. Don't worry, Ladybug and Cat Noir took care of everything. We should probably turn our books in on time for a while, though. Now the big problem is that it used up the rest of the library's open hours. We can't get in."

Adrien looked at the mahogany-colored double doors. "Yikes. Any ideas?"

"Maybe. Oh, hold on a second; it's my mom." Marinette looked down at her phone as her mom's text tone chimed.

 _Are you done at the library? Need help with a rush catering order for Mrs. Chamack. Will pay you with $$ and hugs_.

Marinette sighed. "Adrien, my parents need help at the bakery this afternoon. This is a disaster. What are we going to do?"

She looked into her crush's green eyes and steeled herself. "I have a confession to make. I didn't prepare all week like I was supposed to. Stuff kept coming up, and I kept putting the report off. I was hoping to catch up last night and this morning, but then I overslept - and you know the rest." She gestured toward the library doors behind them.

Adrien looked at her without speaking. She waited nervously for irritation or anger to flare, but then he sighed, too. "Yeah, same here. I really tried, but an extra project on top of our regular studies was pretty badly timed for me. This was just the wrong week."

At that moment, the bell rang to signal the end of Saturday classes. The two of them looked up as students trickled out of the classrooms on the upper and lower levels.

"Look, I don't have to go home for an hour or so. Can I come over to the bakery? Maybe we can figure something out."

Adrien gestured for Marinette to precede him out of the school building. She blushed, charmed.

"Of course. We've still got Sunday, right? We can do this."

"Oh, no," Adrien muttered as they crossed the street in the direction of the bakery.

"What?" Marinette looked up at him.

"We don't have Sunday. I forgot. My dad's flying me to Saint-Tropez tomorrow for another photo shoot."

"Oh my gosh. That's hours away! Will you be gone the whole day?"

"Pretty much," he answered.

"See, this is what I was trying to explain to Alya; modeling's not all glamorous. It's stressful too."

"You guys were talking about me?" Adrien asked.

"Um, no! Well, yes, er- well, just for a second," stammered Marinette.

They stepped up on the curb outside the bakery and Adrien reached forward to hold the door for Marinette as they walked in. The little bell over the door tinkled pleasantly and Sabine Cheng looked up, a smile on her face.

"Oh, Marinette! I'm so glad you're home. Your dad's in the back; he needs a lot of help with a big order of fruit tarts. They have to go out in five hours." Marinette took off her backpack and kissed her mom on the cheek.

"Okay, Maman. Maman, this is Adrien, Adrien, this is my mom Sabine."

She turned to watch Adrien put on a high-wattage, camera-ready smile for her mom. She felt a little weak in the knees.

"We've met before. How are you, Mrs. Cheng?" he shook her hand.

She smiled back, charmed. "Fine, young man. You go ahead into the back with Marinette. You two still studying?"

"Yes, Maman. We have a few things to iron out."

They entered the bakery kitchen where her father was meticulously smearing thin layers of melted chocolate over the bottoms of baked pastry crusts.

"Oh, good, Marinette!" he boomed. "Let me get this batch into the fridge to chill for a few minutes."

Tom Dupain deftly lifted the wide tray and slid it onto a shelf in the wide refrigerator. "Now, let me see... your name is Adrien, right?" Marinette's father always had a good memory for names and faces.

"Yes, sir," replied Adrien. "How can we help?"

He set down his satchel next to the broad silver countertop. Marinette felt her cheeks pink as she smiled. Was Adrien seriously here, in her parent's bakery, about to make fruit tarts?

"Marinette can fill you in on everything. I'll keep working on the chocolate; you two layer in the pastry cream. Honey, it's in the fridge right there." Tom indicated another wide steel door.

Marinette yanked it open and pulled out a big bowl of vanilla pastry filling, chilled and ready to use. She put it on the counter and slid it toward Adrien, who caught it with both hands.

"Okay, we just need to get these shells here..." Marinette pulled out a tray of chilled tart shells and set it next to the bowl of cream, "...and pipe the cream into each one. Try to get right to the top, okay?"

"You got it," agreed Adrien.

He held the bowl steady as she filled two piping bags and expertly twisted them closed, then snipped off the ends.

Marinette was surprised - he looked like he actually wanted to make tarts! If he liked them, maybe there would be a few extra she could give him. She handed him a piping bag and they got to work.

"You know," she said, keeping her voice low, "Our best option may be for me to just get the work done, then try to get to school early on Monday morning to polish things up before we present."

Adrien wrinkled his brow, concentrating on evening out the top of a pastry shell without dripping cream over the edge. "No, I refuse to go that route. We both messed up here. It's not your job to fix this alone."

"I appreciate the thought, Adrien, but unless you have a better idea... I mean, I can buy some e-books to help with research since the library's closed. It won't be so hard."

"Hold on a second," he said, putting his spoon down. "Two ideas, actually."

"What?"

"You said unless I have a better idea - well, I have two."

"Okay, go on."

"First idea: I have a huge collection of books at home. I mean, massive. I... got them from my mom."

"Oh, Adrien, she... left them to you?"

"Not exactly. Six months after she was gone, I came home and found a bunch of dudes installing book shelves and loading books in. My mom was a real collector. I found out later my dad couldn't stand looking at them anymore, so he basically gave them to me. Marinette, it's a huge library of books. You wouldn't believe. The good thing is they came with a digital catalog - it's on my computer. If we can compile a list of what we need here, I bet I have some of them at home."

"Well, that's definitely promising. What's your second idea?"

"Might be a little harder to pull off." Adrien stuck his tongue out the side of his mouth as he focused on topping off a pastry shell.

Marinette stared, realized she was staring, then turned her head aside so fast she cricked her neck. _Ouch, what is wrong with me!_ she thought, exasperated.

Rolling one shoulder to produce a satisfying pop, she turned back to Adrien.

"You okay?" he asked, glancing up at her.

"Ha, um, yeah! Go on," she prompted.

"You could come with us to Saint-Tropez tomorrow. It's a private jet; there's plenty of room. The flights should give us enough time to get everything written. What do you think? Would your parents go for it?"

A trip to Saint-Tropez? With Adrien? She couldn't dream up a more perfect day. What would she wear? Would she have to have a bathing suit? Wait, what about the topless beaches? Maybe it was still too cold this time of year for that. She'd never been to the coast during the school semester, after all. What if- she realized Adrien was staring at her.

"Oh! Wow, I don't know, but it's a great idea! Are you sure you want _me_ to go - I mean, are you sure your dad wouldn't mind?"

"Well, I don't think he'll mind you, but will he mind that I didn't get my schoolwork done? Yeah, I'm pretty much toast at this point."

"Me too. I told them all week school's been going great. Well, time to get it over with, I suppose."

Just then, the door to the kitchen swung open and Sabine walked in.

Marinette set down her bag and squared her shoulders. "Maman? Papa? Do you have a second?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for continuing to read! This chapter ended up almost double the length of the others - I couldn't find a good spot to break it apart. :) Please leave a review if you see anything that could be sharpened up or elaborated upon. The draft is done, but I guess it felt like it wrote itself so quickly in some spots, I wonder if I left things out.


	11. Saturday Pt. 2 and Sunday Pt. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrien and Marinette get ready for their trip. Sunday is an early day for Nathalie.

Adrien kept his eyes on the tarts as Marinette's parents had a slightly heated discussion with their daughter about responsibility and obligation. He wasn't looking forward to the version he'd receive when he got home. Fortunately, her mom and dad thought the trip to Saint-Tropez was a good idea - in light of the limited options. After extracting a promise from their daughter to be more time-conscious in the future, Tom turned back to another tray of unfinished tart crusts and Sabine returned to the store front.

Marinette sank down onto the stool next to him, head bowed, and picked up her spoon. He nudged her shoulder with his own and her pout disappeared.

"That wasn't so bad," he reflected. "They didn't explode or anything."

"Ha-ha," she answered. "I just hate disappointing them, you know?"

"Yeah, I do," he sighed, sympathy welling up in him. Why else did he do all this stuff for his dad, after all? "I think I'd rather deal with it on the phone than in person. If you don't mind, I'll take a break and call my father real quick."

Adrien stepped out the back door of the bakery and dialed his father's personal number. It rang four times, then went to voicemail. He sighed. "Hi Father, it's me. I need to talk to you when you have a minute. Thanks."

He hung up and called Nathalie next, who picked up on the first ring.

"Adrien? Is everything alright?"

"Hi Nathalie. Yes, everything's fine. Is my dad there? I called his phone but he didn't pick up. I need to talk to him about a school project that's due." He waited as he heard Nathalie's muffled voice speaking to someone at her location, then footsteps, then a crackle as his father picked up the phone.

"Adrien? What's this about a project? You know you have to be in Saint-Tropez tomorrow."

"Hi, Father. Yeah, um, my partner and I don't have our project ready for school next week. I was wondering, since there's going to be downtime on the flights, could she come with me and we can work on it then? It won't get in the way of the shoot, I promise."

Adrien heard his dad give a long, quiet sigh. He knew the controlling Gabriel Agreste was rearranging something in his own mind.

"Who is this partner?"

"Uh, Marinette Dupain-Cheng? You've met her before."

"Yes, yes, I remember. She understands this is work, not playtime?"

"Definitely," confirmed Adrien, remembering the talk Marinette's parents had given her minutes earlier.

"Adrien, I don't appreciate you waiting until the last minute on this. Your schedule is rigorous, true, but it's the agreement we made so that you can attend this school you enjoy. I expect to see top marks, do you understand? Anything less, and we may have to renegotiate our little deal."

"Yes, Father. I understand." He heard Nathalie's muffled voice and the phone was handed back to her.

"Adrien?"

"Yes, still here, Nathalie."

"Tell your friend we'll be there to collect her at 6:00 am sharp. We can't wait any longer; Monsieur Thomas wants to capture daylight in the morning, noon, and afternoon times. If she's not ready we'll have to leave without her. And tell her not to worry about meals. We've got it covered." He could hear the click of Nathalie's nails on her keyboard as she spoke.

"Got it. Thanks, Nathalie. She'll be ready." He ended the call and reentered the back of the bakery.

"What did he say?" Marinette asked.

She had almost finished the pastry cream in her current batch of tart crusts.

"We're good to go."

Adrien chuckled at the brilliant smile that lit up Marinette's features. Now that they had a plan, he felt lighter, too. Plus it was going to be cool to bring a friend on this long trip. The travel time was normally so boring. He sat back down next to his blue-haired buddy.

"What's this?" he pointed at a new bowl on the counter.

"Last ingredient." Marinette whipped a towel off the top of the bowl to reveal colorful ripe berries. "Papa just rinsed them. We pat them dry on the towel, then press them into the cream. For all these tarts." She made a sweeping motion that encompassed the entire metal counter, which was crammed with miniature desserts.

"Spoon or berry? You can pick." She held up one of each in either hand.

"I'll work on berries," Adrien said with a smile.

* * *

"What about this one?" Marinette held up a yellow sundress, pressing a light, white cardigan against it.

A thin ray of late afternoon sun pushed past drifting clouds and filtered in through the window, hardly enough to illuminate the room. Alya looked up from where she was laid out on the chaise lounge, ankles crossed, and wrinkled her nose.

"No, the color's too neon, not enough lemon. Looks gross with your hair."

Marinette sighed and returned the dress to her closet.

"This one?" She held up a coral pink dress with white polka dots and her best friend's eyebrows shot up appreciatively.

"Strong contender! Put it in the keep pile. Did you decide about a bathing suit?"

"I'm not bringing one. I'm going to be by myself most of the time on the beach; Adrien will be in the middle of photoshoots the whole day. I'd feel dumb swimming alone, and it's too cold anyway."

"You could at least get a tan."

Marinette frowned, considering.

"Fair point," she conceded and tossed her solid black suit into her briefcase-style schoolbag.

The bag wasn't efficient for holding clothes, but she primarily wanted to bring her sketch pad, tablet and school books anyway, and all the rectangular items fit better in there.

"I'm still in shock you get to go with Adrien to Saint-Tropez tomorrow. That's like, the set up to every teen romance novel ever. You lead a charmed life, girl."

Marinette groaned and flopped her torso down on the chaise over Alya's legs, burying her face in the padded edge. "Every time I think about it, my heart starts racing and I feel dizzy! I'm going to do something stupid, like trip over the steps to the plane, or not figure out my seat belt buckle, or we'll have turbulence and I won't get my face mask on and I'll pass out, or I'll puke on the runway or-"

"How often have you flown, Marinette?!"

"Not since we went to China when I was ten."

"Good Lord," Alya muttered, lifting her eyes to the ceiling for help. "Look, you'll basically be on an air bus. Seats, aisles, and overhead bins -"

"I didn't even think about those! What if my stuff falls out on my head? I'll look like a klutz!"

"You _are_ a klutz, Marinette. It'll be like every other day of the week."

"You aren't helping, Alya." Marinette lifted her head just enough to show narrowed eyes at her best friend, then buried her face in the chaise again.

Alya bit her lips to keep back a laugh at her poor, dejected, lucky BFF.

"I'm sorry, girl. Here's an idea: just keep the bag under your seat. You'll want it for studying anyway. And that way, it won't trip you up."

Marinette perked up, raising herself off the chaise and sitting on the floor with her hands in her lap, like a girl at library storytime.

"That's good advice!" she agreed.

"And wear shorts under your skirt - you can take it off on the beach if you get hot that way. Nobody minds shorts at the beach." She smiled as Marinette jumped up and ran back to the closet, rummaging around until she found a modest pair of pink linen shorts, long enough to cover half her thighs and embroidered with black thread at the hem.

"Got'em!" she said, raising them triumphantly, then tossing them in the keep pile.

She sat down in her desk chair and gave Alya her attention again.

"And if you do start to feel dizzy, pretend like you need to take a nap. Travel makes everyone sleepy."

"Okay, I can do that - I think. If I'm already sitting down. Hey, wait, what about this one?" Marinette jumped back up and went to her closet.

She looked like a nervous rabbit to Alya, racing back and forth through the room. She pulled out a white halter top with black straps and floral embroidery across the top.

" _LOVE_ it! That's definitely the one!"

"Okay, then it has to go with this." Draping the halter top across her torso, Marinette paired it with a cornflower blue knee-length skirt.

"I can see it now. The skirt is just ruffly enough to catch the wind and make you look pretty walking along the shore. You'll be all princess, no drama. Adrien won't know what hit him." Alya grinned and the two girls giggled, eyes meeting across the room.

"I have a pair of denim shorts with a high waist - those will do for under the skirt." Marinette retrieved them from a drawer and added them to the ensemble.

She packed up a few emergency items - extra hair elastics, just-in-case feminine products, and finally gave something resembling a happy sigh.

"It's going to be fun, right? I can't tell right now."

"Yes, girl! Of course you're going to have fun! Just don't forget to get your report done, too."

Marinette turned a sour look on her friend.

"Ha ha. I won't." She went from sour to dismayed as a thought came to her. "Please, do NOT tell Chloe about this trip!"

Alya gave an impatient huff. "Why would I tell _her_ anything? Besides, I doubt I'll even see her until Monday morning. We're done with our assignment already."

"Or Sabrina - that's the same as telling Chloe," Marinette pressed.

"Of course I won't."

Alya wanted to feel offended, but she knew her journalistic instincts caused her to reveal more information than was strictly necessary at times. She raised the back of her hand in a dramatic swoon against her forehead.

"If I'd only known what procrastination could do for my love life-" A pillow caught her across the face, mashing her glasses against the bridge of her nose. "Hey! Watch the specs!"

Marinette giggled, unapologetic, and her head popped over the side of her loft, a second missile ready.

Alya issued her battle cry, "Don't even think about it!" and scrambled up the ladder to whack at her best friend with the fluffy pillow carried in one hand.

They went at it, giggling with mock-vicious pillow slams until a couple of feathers drifted in the air over Marinette's bed.

"Aah! Mending break! Time-out!"

Marinette held her hands up in a T and took Alya's pillow from her, fingering the small tear in the seam. She went down and took out the sewing kit at her desk. By the time she had the pillow sewn up and climbed to the top of her ladder, Alya had lost interest in the fight and lay on the bed, reading a magazine from the stash Marinette kept nearby.

"Do you want to sleep over?" Marinette asked. "It's almost time for dinner."

"Sure! Let me check with my mom."

Alya put down the magazine and shot a text off to her mother. She nodded when the reply came quickly back.

"Your parents will have a different daughter in the morning," she confirmed.

Marinette giggled.

"You forget; Papa will be up at four anyway. He'll be there to see me off."

"Okay then, your mother will be stunned to see this beautiful, helpful, obedient creature that has replaced her daughter come down at say, eleven AM on a Sunday morning. That's totally an hour earlier than I usually make my appearance."

Marinette resisted the urge to swat her bestie with a pillow again. They both turned when they heard Marinette's trap door open with a knock.

"Girls? Dinner time. Alya, are you staying?"

"Yes, Maman - she's spending the night if that's okay?"

"Of course, dear. Come on down, food's hot."

After a big dinner and half of a movie with her parents, Marinette was surprised to find herself yawning. All the excess nervous energy seemed to be spent, though her heart still had enough to beat fast with terrified excitement when she thought about the impromptu vacation she was taking. She stood and stretched.

"Okay if I go to bed?" she asked Alya, who was engrossed in the film.

Another yawn overtook her entire face and she covered her mouth with one hand.

"Yeah, I'll come up when this is over," Alya answered.

Marinette smiled, happy her friend felt so comfortable in her house and around her parents. She kissed her mom and dad goodnight and headed up. As soon as she closed the trapdoor, Tikki zoomed out to float in front of her, a serious expression on her face as she took in Marinette's sleepy blinking visage.

"Marinette, I'm really not sure this trip is a good idea. Please try calling Chat Noir again."

Marinette acquiesced with a nod.

"Spots on," she whispered, then held up her yo-yo and punched the communicator button to bring up Chat Noir - if he was around.

There was no response. She wasn't really surprised; it wasn't like she sat around in her Ladybug persona, waiting for akumas to happen, and she didn't imagine Chat Noir did either. A trip out of town was something they'd never needed to discuss before.

"Tikki, spots off," she said and the little kwami tumbled away from her.

"Any luck?" asked her tiny red companion as soon as she'd regained her balance.

"No, he's not transformed. I don't think I'm going to reach him tonight. I can try again in the morning?"

"You really shouldn't leave Paris without a backup plan, Marinette. You're not thinking it through."

"I know, but I'm out of options, Tikki. I can't back out now. I can't sacrifice my grade - and Adrien's - on the off chance that Hawkmoth will release an akuma. He's been busy this week, so odds are we won't see any action tomorrow. And we know Chat will be here to handle things while I'm gone, even if I can't call him. Please, Tikki. I need to go on this trip."

Tikki sensed the worry in Marinette's voice and responded with a smile.

"I know you do, Marinette. We'll make it work. I agree, the odds are in your favor." She floated close to hug her chosen. "Next time don't be so last minute!"

"Yes, ma'am. I've got that message loud and clear from you, my maman, my papa, and Alya. I better get some sleep if I'm going to make my 6 AM pickup time."

Marinette changed into her pajamas and left a second set on the chaise for Alya. As she settled into bed, her mind tried to race with last minute thoughts and rambles, but she couldn't sustain the bout of nerves for long. When Alya came up to the room after the movie's conclusion, she found her best friend settled in and snoring lightly.

* * *

"You should just admit you like her. The awkwardness is killing me," Plagg teased from the couch below as Adrien stood on a ladder in front of his bookshelf, one finger tracing the spines of old hardback books, their canvas coverings rough under his fingertips.

"Okay, yeah, I like her," Adrien responded and Plagg made a triumphant noise, his ears perking. "As a _friend_ , Plagg," continued the young man, grinning when he saw a look of supreme annoyance cross the kwami's face.

He removed another volume and descended the rolling ladder attached to his bookshelf. He could never have guessed his mother would be such a fan of poetry, but it was definitely saving his bacon now.

"I can't believe I had all these good reference texts just sitting up here. Eight of Ms. Bustier's recommended bibliography and three more besides. Why didn't I think to check my library earlier in the week?"

"Can't call it laziness. You haven't touched your video game for a week."

Adrien eyed Plagg closely for signs of sympathy to his situation.

"Yeah, the only lazy one around here is you," he rejoined.

His kwami didn't take offense.

"Don't you forget it," Plagg sighed happily, drifting down to the plate of snacks Adrien had procured for him. "What, no camembert?"

He narrowed his eyes at his chosen, who looked unmoved by his plight.

"You ate it already," Adrien responded as he carried the heavy stack of books down to his coffee table. "Two minutes ago."

"Whatever. Let's get back to this Marinette girl." Plagg's eyes lit up as Adrien rolled his, enjoying the prospect of tormenting his chosen.

"Plagg, dude, give it a rest!" Adrien groaned.

He turned away from the black kwami's chuckling visage and changed into pajamas. Plagg doggedly followed him into the adjoining bathroom, where Adrien brushed his teeth and washed his face before bed.

"What? You're a boy. She's a girl. Doesn't sound so difficult."

"I'm starting to suspect you of pushing an agenda, Plagg. Why do you care so much?"

"I don't." Plagg responded flatly, avoiding Adrien's gaze. "Hey, you need to call Ladybug to let her know you're leaving town."

"Oh, crap. I didn't think of that. Now?"

"No better time."

"Okay, Plagg, claws out." Adrien transformed into his alter ego and pulled his silver baton free from his back.

He pressed the communicator button, but there was no answer. Disappointed but not surprised, he released his transformation.

"She wasn't there," he informed Plagg as the kwami tumbled away toward the coffee table and his plate of food.

"Try again in the morning," Plagg suggested around a mouthful of crackers. "She can handle you being gone for a day, in any case."

Adrien nodded and pulled back the covers on his bed, stifling a small yawn. Once he was settled in, he flicked off his light and stared at the moon coming in through his windows until he fell asleep.

* * *

_Schedule/Itinerary: N. Sancoeur_  
_4:00 am - Wake up call_  
_4:30 am - Breakfast and coffee_  
_4:45 am - Bring personal items (bags/luggage) to front door (2 total)_

Nathalie Sancoeur woke to the trusty buzz of her smartphone's alarm clock. She stifled the temptation to swipe the snooze, instead forcing herself to sit up and look at the bright screen of the phone to wake up her eyes. It was almost blinding in the dark, and she groped for the switch to turn on her lamp.

 _4:01 am_ read the display as she turned off the alarm with a sigh. It was Saint-Tropez day. Truth be told, she didn't mind the travel. The weather was predicted to be beautiful in southern France (she'd continuously checked the forecasts all week, and it had been the last thing she'd done before going to bed - just to be sure no adjustments to the schedule needed to be made). She didn't mind the early-morning schedule she was forced to keep so that everyone else could sleep in a little more. She didn't mind herding grumpy models and their sleepy handlers on a Sunday morning as she coordinated their departure.

Really, the only thing she minded was being stuck in a plane and on a beach all day with Monsieur Jak Thomas. Remove him, and the rest was easy.

Nathalie's phone rang in her hand, jolting her, and she picked up the call.

"Hello?" she asked, rubbing the sleep out of one eye with her free hand.

"This is your requested wake-up call. It's 4:05 am."

"Thank you," she answered, ringing off.

She'd set herself a safety net, in case she didn't get up with her alarm. Within 25 minutes, Nathalie emerged from her bedroom, groomed and dressed for the day in an impeccable tan skirt with a light blouse and matching blazer. The weather would hover between the 10's and 20's on the coast today, so she was ready to keep warm or cool.

In place of her professional heels, she wore prim beige ballet flats. Heels on the beach were an idiotic notion; she'd seen more than one woman in the fashion industry waylaid due to a lack of common sense in a situation like this. She felt a bit monochromatic in her neutral ensemble, but she also knew the likelihood of being covered in sand for one reason or another was high. With one last look in her full-length mirror, she patted her hair and nodded, then went to the kitchen and poured herself a fresh cup of coffee from her pre-set pot.

Dropping a handful of fresh blueberries into a bowl of yogurt, Nathalie sat on one of two bar stools at her kitchen counter and took a moment to enjoy the warmth of coffee sliding down her throat and the sweet explosion of blueberries as she crushed them in her teeth. A moment was all she had, however. She finished her coffee and washed the bowl, spoon and cup, setting them on the drain board to the left of her stainless steel sink.

She checked her watch. 4:43 am - perfect. She lifted her pre-packed briefcase and purse from a demure, white occasional chair next to her front door and glided out of the apartment, locking it securely behind her. She descended to the first floor of the building to wait for her car.

Nathalie _tsked_ to herself when a shiny black car rolled up at 4:46 am. She let herself into the back before the driver could get out and take her bags, making a mental note not to use this particular car service again as she pulled the door shut behind her. One minute late was unacceptable. No point in wasting words; the quiet void of no new engagements by the Gabriel Agreste company would speak volumes on its own.

Nathalie placed her briefcase and purse securely on the roomy seat beside her. Her driver muttered something along the lines of "good morning" as she buckled in, but didn't try to engage her in conversation. She listened to the quiet hum of the vehicle in empty streets as they sped along. Her eyes played over the sleeve of her blazer, watching the light and shadow that cascaded across the fabric under the city streetlights.

Just as the motion of the car began to lull her, they came to a stop in front of the Agreste mansion, the brakes squeaking quietly. This time, the driver managed to get around the side of the car before her hand was on the door handle. He let her out at the gate in front of the house.

"Thank you," she said without smiling and gave him the expected tip.

She turned her back to him, dismissing him entirely from her mind as she shouldered her purse and walked to the gate. She entered her personal code and the latch clicked, allowing the metal blockade to roll back just enough to admit her. Sensors recorded her passing and reversed the course of the gate once she was through, locking it securely behind her.


	12. Sunday Pt 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette and Adrien fly to Saint-Tropez for the photoshoot.

_5:00 am - A. Agreste and G. Agreste wake up calls_

_5:30 am - Breakfast served; review itineraries_

The front door of the Agreste mansion still used an old-fashioned key. Nathalie let herself in, locked the door behind her, and strode swiftly to the alarm station next to the front door, muttering in her vocal authorization before her small window of time ran out.

A quiet but insistent beep silenced itself in response to her utterance of “Nathalie Sancoeur” into an invisible microphone behind a large planter and the Agreste household went back to its pre-morning state. She glanced down at her watch again. 4:58 am. Good. She started across the foyer toward Gabriel’s office, but stopped when she heard a door open above her head.

“Nathalie?” Adrien poked his head out of his room on the second floor, sun-golden hair tumbled about his face and sticking up in a ridge over the right side of his head. Surprised, Nathalie looked down at her wrist. 4:59 am.

“You’re early,” she replied, pleased. 

“It’s Saint-Tropez day,” he shrugged with a sleepy grin that quickly morphed into a yawn.

“Breakfast will be ready at 5:30,” she reminded him. 

He nodded and pushed the knuckles of one hand into another huge yawn, backing up and closing the door to his bedroom.

Nathalie entered her boss’s office, feeling uncharacteristically sneaky in her silent ballet flats. Rounding the edge of her desk, she checked her watch one last time. 5:00 am on the dot. She depressed the intercom button for Gabriel’s bedroom and muttered quietly into the microphone. Nodding at the clipped but polite reply, she exited the office, pulled the tall doors shut behind her, and crossed to the kitchen to check on breakfast.

Father and son were promptly seated and served at 5:30 am. Nathalie covered the day’s itinerary with them as they quietly ate and drank, their eyes on the tablets to the left of their plates.

_5:45 am - A. Agreste and G. Agreste personal items (bags) to front door (3 total); car to pick up M. Dupain-Cheng (1 bag); check-in call with handlers for Monica and Selina_

_6:00 am - Leave for airport; no delays allowed_

_6:20 am - Final check-in for A. Agreste, G. Agreste, N. Sancoeur, M. ------, M. Dupain-Cheng, Monica, Selina, J. Thomas, J.T. assistant, M. Walsh (Monica’s handler), M. Welsh (Selina’s handler) (13 pieces of luggage); final check-in for wardrobe (5 trunks, pre-loaded in cargo)_

“Did you ever get a name for M. Thomas’ assistant?” interjected Gabriel, interrupting the litany.

“I’ll make a note to ask him on the flight,” Nathalie replied, jotting it in a neat hand on her tablet.

Gabriel nodded and motioned for her to continue.

_6:30 am - Flight commences_

_7:00 am - Check-in call with crew in Saint-Tropez; check-in call with handlers for Georges, Greg, Fatima, Victor, and Bebe - they must be on set and ready at 9:30 am; double-check wardrobe sent last week (5 trunks)_

_9:00 am - Depart plane, drive by car to private beach_

_9:30 am - Arrival on set_

_9:50 am - Begin with ST models, once J. Thomas is ready for shoot (allow extra time cushion for J. Thomas preparation); prep Paris models_

_10:30 am - shoot fully underway; sent intern for coffee and snacks_

_12:30 pm - half hour break for lunch at Les Salins - models restricted to salad menu_

_1:00 pm - wardrobe changes and makeup refresh for shoot (sunscreen application for models)_

_1:15 pm - resume shoot_

_3:15 pm - 15 minute break_

_3:30 pm - resume shoot_

_5:15 pm - pack up Paris wardrobe and models that are returning_

_6:15 pm - board plane for return_

_8:45 pm - arrive in Paris_

_9:30 pm - Adrien bedtime - lights out by 10 pm for school sleep schedule_

Gabriel nodded as he sipped his coffee. “Excellent, Nathalie. You’ve thought of everything.”

“Thank you, Sir,” she replied.

Adrien set his knife and fork quietly on his plate and cleared his throat. Nathalie caught the cue and depressed a button on her tablet. Someone from the kitchen entered immediately and cleared his place as he leaned back to afford them room.

“Uh, Father? Since I’m finished, would it be all right if I went with the car that’s picking up Marinette?” 

Adrien’s query surprised Nathalie, but she checked her watch. It was only 5:41. The car hadn’t left yet. She glanced at Adrien. He was fully dressed, not a hair out of place. He even had a jacket on. He’d been planning to ask.

Gabriel silently eyed his son over the edge of his tablet, then glanced at Nathalie. She shrugged, indicating that it was no problem.

“Alright,” Gabriel agreed, a tiny lift at the corner of his mouth the only indication that he noticed his son’s bright smile.

“You’d better go on out and meet the driver, Adrien,” Nathalie prompted.

Adrien grinned at her and pushed back his chair, zipping up his hoodie as he left the room.

Marinette tumbled out of bed - almost literally - at 5:08 am.

_Oh my gosh, I’m gonna be late,_ she thought as she frantically gathered her shower things and attempted not to wake Alya in the bed above.

Luckily, she and Alya had gotten her completely packed the night before and had laid out the winning clothing ensemble on her chaise lounge. Nervous energy sped her along through her morning toilette. Tikki hovered cheerfully over Marinette’s shoulder as she brushed her teeth and re-tied her pigtails.

“Try to check in with Chat Noir one more time,” she suggested.

Marinette nodded, locking the bathroom door and transforming. She hit the communicator button, but Chat didn’t pick up. No surprise there. She released her transformation with a sigh.

“Sorry, Tikki, no luck.”

Her kwami shrugged as she flew into Marinette’s open purse. “It’s fine, Marinette. I’m sure Chat Noir will keep a good lookout while you’re gone.”

Marinette grabbed her school briefcase from her room and quietly closed the trap door, Alya’s soft snores following her down the stairs. She went down to the bakery. Her father was already working, whistling a tune as he pulled the first fresh bread of the day out of the enormous oven.

“Be safe, Baby,” he said, kissing her soundly on the top of the head.

Marinette smiled and gave him a big hug. 

“I will, Papa. See you this evening.” She picked up a special box of pastries he’d put together for her and exited through the side door to wait for Adrien’s driver. 

The city was still dark, street lights puncturing the shadows in the pre-dawn gloom. Marinette shivered as she looked up to take in a dim view of clouds passing quickly overhead. At least the forecast for the coast was clear.

The car arrived promptly at 6:00 am. Marinette reached forward to pull open the passenger door, but it swung open from the inside to reveal Adrien’s sleepy smile. Marinette almost dropped her box of pastries.

“Hey, Marinette. Ready to go?” Adrien asked, stretching forward to relieve her of her school bag.

“Hi!” she squeaked. “Yeah!”

She’d been counting on a few minutes in the car to do a final makeup check before seeing Adrien, but now she’d just have to hope everything was applied correctly. Adrien’s smile didn’t waver as he slid over to make room for her in the car.

“Where’s your luggage?” she asked, noting the absence of personal items in the back seat.

Adrien chuckled. “We hit the jackpot, bookwise. Turns out my mom was a fan of poetry. I had to load a separate duffel for all the reference books; they’re with my other stuff on the way to the airport.”

“Oh, great!” Marinette replied.

They lapsed into awkward silence as the car accelerated onto a main road. It took them to a remote airfield that housed Gabriel Agreste’s private jet. Several miles and one gated checkpoint later, they pulled up directly onto the tarmac. A plane bearing the Agreste company logo stood waiting, warm lights on within. Other cars disgorged sleepy-eyed passengers and mountains of luggage. Adrien led the way up the movable staircase; Marinette clung to the railing tightly and prayed her nerves wouldn’t cause her to slip or make some other klutzy mistake.

She unnecessarily ducked her head at the low doorway in the side of the plane. Adrien moved forward into the cabin, still carrying Marinette’s school briefcase. Marinette wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting, but the spacious cabin with swiveling leather chairs grouped around lustrous, deeply stained wooden tables was nothing like Alya’s airbus description. She could see at a glance that the only overhead compartments in the room were for electronics and a decent DVD collection inset around a massive flat-screen television mounted to one wall. The TV was on, early morning headlines scrolling across the bottom of the screen as station anchors took the viewers through the latest political and economic developments. 

One of the two lounge chairs attached to the floor in front of the TV swiveled around and Gabriel Agreste himself pinpointed Marinette with his intense stare, legs crossed at the knee and fingers steepled under his chin. 

All the air in Marinette’s lungs blew out with a _woosh_. She felt like she’d been checked with a punch to the gut. Had Adrien mentioned his father would be along for the trip?? No, but of course, why wouldn’t he come? How had this possibility not occurred to her? She froze, paralyzed, until someone bumped her with their carry-on and she took a stumbling step forward, clutching her pastry box tightly.

“Ms. Dupain-Cheng. How kind of you to join us.” Gabriel stood up and came forward in one smooth gesture, his trademark coif picture-perfect and his tailored jacket and slacks immaculately pressed. 

He shook her hand and even bent a little at the waist, looking deep into her eyes. Marinette was beyond surprised. She’d expected him to be cold, maybe even angry or irritated with her. He _was_ cool, but she could tell he was sincere in his welcome.

“Th-thank you,” she squeaked, then cleared her throat and tried again. “Thank you for the invitation. I’m sorry it was necessary.”

“Are you truly?” 

She wasn’t sure whether he was serious or not, but then his eyes creased at the corners in a bare hint of a smile. She decided to smile back and raised the box in her hands toward him.

“Have you had breakfast?”

Adrien, setting her briefcase down at a table, tried to peek over his shoulder without staring. Was his father actually… smiling? He gaped when Gabriel peered into the pastry box Marinette was holding up for him and grasped a croissant in a dainty pinch with long fingers. His father took a bite, and then a genuine smile did cross his lips.

“Delicious,” Gabriel pronounced with a sigh. “I haven’t had a croissant like that in years.”

“I brought enough for everyone,” Marinette smiled.

Just then, another model pushed past in the center aisle of the cabin, bumping Marinette harshly on the shoulder and knocking the pastry box out of her hands.

“Oops, sorry,” she singsonged, shouldering a tiny purse and just barely glancing away from her smartphone.

“Watch where you’re going, Monica,” Adrien admonished.

She rolled her eyes and continued her journey to the back of the plane. A thin man with a careworn face struggled under two enormous suitcases behind her, eventually dumping everything into one of the leather seats at the table she selected.

“Be careful, Arnold, those are brand new!” Monica snapped.

Adrien sighed and knelt to help Marinette pick up pastries. 

“Sorry about that. Monica’s… kind of a piece of work,” he muttered.

Gabriel had stepped back - not rudely, Marinette realized, but to allow them room to maneuver in the cramped space. She couldn’t imagine the famous fashion designer dropping to hands and knees for the sake of errant baked goods in any case.

“I hope nothing is ruined,” he murmured sympathetically as the two teens rose.

“Good as new,” Marinette replied, patting the top of the box. “I’ll just leave them… here,” she decided, glancing around and setting the box on the nearest table.

Adrien hovered over it, unsure. The buttery smell made his stomach gurgle, even though he’d already had breakfast.

“Take one,” Marinette encouraged. 

A thought occurred to her as she noticed Adrien’s hesitation. 

“Oh! Unless you aren’t allowed…” her eyes strayed guiltily to Gabriel then slammed to the floor when he caught her gaze.

Gabriel smiled thinly, “He’s a teenage boy. He can’t gain weight if he tries.”

Adrien reached for the pastry box, but his hand stilled as his father spoke again. 

“However, he _can_ ruin his complexion. Adrien, eat carefully.” 

With that, Gabriel Agreste swung back to the news, leaving the two teens to exchange glances as Adrien purloined an extra pastry from the box.

“Geez,” Marinette whispered to herself. 

Adrien shook his head and leaned in right next to her ear. “Don’t even try. He hears all.” 

She could feel his lips moving against her hair more than she could even hear the words. She shivered as her face went bright pink.

The pair settled into their seats and clipped in their seat belts as the pilot and single stewardess took them through the safety guidelines. Marinette’s ears perked at the constant sound of Monica snapping gum through the entire spiel, while the other model, Selina, giggled at something on her smartphone. Adrien rolled his eyes and shrugged, indicating there was nothing to be done for it. The plane began its ascent, Adrien grinning at her from across the table as she clutched the buttery leather armrests in a death grip.

Once they were safely in the air, Adrien unbuckled and knelt to drag a heavy black duffel out from under their table.

“Wow, you weren’t kidding!” Marinette exclaimed as he unzipped it to reveal mounds of old hardbacks. The pleasant odor of old paper and glue wafted up to her as he pulled out three volumes and set them on the table.

“Shall we?” Adrien smirked with a mock bow as he sat back down.

Marinette smiled. The motion was reminiscent of someone else she knew, but she couldn’t put a finger on it. She got her notebook and tablet and the pair went to work.

A few snack and drink breaks later, Marinette heard her phone chime as she returned from the bathroom. She took out her phone to see Alya’s text when the plane banked, tilting the cabin unexpectedly. Marinette fell sideways over Adrien’s seat with a startled exclamation, her face smushed into the double-paned oval window and one arm of the chair digging painfully into her stomach just above her hip.

“Whoa! Are you okay?” Adrien had both hands up, unsure how to help his struggling friend extricate herself from his lap. 

He swiveled his chair inward, hoping to give her more room, but her face just scraped against the interior plane wall, then bumped the table edge.

“Ow!” she protested loudly, drawing looks from the other passengers. 

“Omigosh, sorry!” Adrien exclaimed. 

This was just getting worse. Marinette managed to get both hands on one arm of the chair and pushed off, rolling to the floor in an awkward heap. She felt clumsy and stupid, but at least she wasn’t on her crush’s lap anymore. 

She sat up and rubbed the side of her face, looking up through her lashes to see if anyone was still watching. Only Monica, who was so engrossed Marinette was surprised she didn’t have popcorn. She felt Adrien’s hand on her shoulder and looked up.

“Hey, are you okay?” he asked, not a trace of a smile on his face. 

_Seriously, how can he be so amazingly nice?_ Marinette wondered. If their roles were reversed, she wouldn’t be able to help at least a giggle. He must think she really hurt herself.

“How does it look?” she asked, tilting her head and pointing to the sore spot she could feel on her left cheekbone. 

He frowned, considering. Before she could say anything more, he reached out and ran a finger over her cheek. Marinette fiercely suppressed the goofy, nervous grin that threatened to stretch across her aching face.

“Pink. Doesn’t look scratched, though. It’ll fade.” He gave a short nod, confident in his assessment. 

“How about my pride?”

“Bad sprain. Better stay off of it for at least a few hours.” 

At this, her lips twitched and they both snickered uncontrollably. Adrien offered her a hand and she helped herself up, then threw herself into her seat across from him, covering her face with both hands and peeking through her fingers at his grinning face.

“Maybe you should buckle up,” he suggested slyly. 

Marinette removed one hand and threw a pencil at him. 

“Hey!” Adrien protested, ducking behind one arm to fend off the projectile.

The fasten seatbelt sign lit up with a ding above them, interrupting the nascent battle.

“All passengers, please be seated. We are now approaching Saint-Tropez and will begin our descent,” intoned the pilot.

The teens followed instructions, packing away their study materials and getting ready to head to the coast.


End file.
